


This is How We Say Goodbye

by 8ball



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Acceptance, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Alternate Universe - No Sburb Session, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Background Relationships, Blow Jobs, Completed, F/F, Lung Cancer, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Sadstuck, friends grieving, no mention of trolls until much later
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-10
Updated: 2015-05-21
Packaged: 2018-02-08 06:48:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 42
Words: 116,657
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1930767
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/8ball/pseuds/8ball
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>There is a color for every type of cancer, a little ribbon to show support, a symbol of survival or fight. Except lung cancer, because everyone figures the people who get that had it coming, what with smoking. Except sometimes you get lung cancer randomly, without doing anything like inhaling nicotine or pesticides or any of that shit. And sometimes its not caught until the last moment, when the tumors are developed and the cancer cells are spread throughout the body. And sometimes really shitty things happen in the most unfair ways to the best people for no acceptable reason.<br/>And out of all those people that are good and perfect and get the kind of cancer where they’re always blamed for it, one of them had to be your friend.<br/>And out of your three best friends, it had to be the one you were in love with.</p><p>With a time limit etched into the cells of John’s body, Dave is left to decide whether to be there as John’s best friend or try to spend the remaining time he has with John as his boyfriend.<br/>Where John looses his breath, Jade tried to push the empty space away and Rose plunges back to darkness, while Dave looses time more and more everyday.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> few things to know:  
> All the kids are now 25, out of college. Guardians deceased (explained in next chapter). Where this is not a humanstuck and the trolls are not in contact with the humans, that doesn't mean they wont appear eventually. Rose is recovering from alcoholism with occasional relapses. She and Dave consider themselves basically siblings, same with John and Jade even though they are not related. Jade basically moved in with John when she left the island to visit him while they were all still in middle school.  
> Dave's love for John is not one-sided. 
> 
> This will be updated regularly

You knew life was cruel since a very young age.

To the exact extent of the world’s cruelty, you did not know, and had not been interested in finding out. And yet the cruelty that you so easy avoided found you still.

It was not your own physical demise the universe sought it seemed, but it certainly had it out for your mentality. And so well the world had succeeded in crippling you with the pain of not simply taking you, but taking someone from you.

Because of course it had to be him.

Of course it had to be the person you care most about in the world. The person you would take every possible form of death 1000 times for. The person you value and cherish and love in the way that makes it impossible for you to live without.

Of course John Egbert was going to die.

And of course it would be slow and painful.

And of course he had waited to tell you.

John Egbert, the person that literally took his jacket off and put over a puddle so his 8th grade date wouldn’t get her feet dirty.

The guy that went to pick up a pizza he had been dying to enjoy and ended up giving it to the guy living in a box around the corner.

The boy that actually convinced you to volunteer with him at a hospital for your senior project of high school and took the time to reintroduce himself to every memory loss patient every day, to bring his favorite video games in to the pediatric ward, bring in pastries, do the extra grunt work with a smile on his face, and cry when a patient passed away.

And you? You never cried. You walked past it and you comforted John, but you didn’t comfort the dead’s family member. You didn’t volunteer to do the extra work. You didn’t have the patients to talk to people that forgot your name every five minutes. You never visited sick kids and made them feel better. You never went the extra mile or cared all that much.

But he did, and now he is dying.

And John cried for the departed, and you didn’t, but you did cry for your friend.

You wanted to hurt something, hurt anything. You wanted to destroy the world that had chosen to let someone so kind live for such a brief time period and then determine them as unnecessary. If you could, you would tear open stars and bring black holes in proximity because if John wasn’t allowed to live, why should anyone else?

Why should anyone deserve to live when he had to die?

 

John had told you, Jade, and Rose 2 days ago. Jade had cried immediately, embracing him and promising help and comfort. Immediate acceptance. Rose had been stunned. She had been angry. She wanted to know why he hadn’t told them sooner, and why were his doctors so sure it was terminal? How could he even get lung cancer without daily smoking or pesticide inhaling? Immediate skepticism. And then he had looked at you because you hadn’t said anything. You saw the slightly red rimmed eyes, and knew he had had a long time to cry alone. His eyes that reflected back a boy with blond hair and sun glasses who wasn’t moving.

And you had said no. You had said that not fucking possible because he was too young for that shit and too good. And you had stood up fast and knocked over the table and you didn’t look when the cups fell and shattered. You looked at him and he looked right back and he had this fucking look on his face, this look of understanding and sympathy and that wasn’t fair.

Immediate denial.

And it had stayed that way for a few hours.

Had it been a sick joke you asked. Had you decided to run away and fight crime as a super hero with the cover that you had died you asked. Had you finally been unable to stand my presence any longer you asked.

And he said no Dave, it wasn’t a joke Dave, it wasn’t a weird cover Dave, I couldn’t live without your shitty jokes Dave.

And then you had cried. And he had held you, comforted you, because you are a shitty friend who cant do jack shit when your best bro needs you.

You wouldn’t leave that night. You all talked for a long time and the girls left but you think they knew you wanted to be alone with him. You stayed and refused to go.

And then he had cried, and you cried with him and held him while he held you because you may be a shitty friend but you still love your friends. You woke up holding him against you, trying to protect him from everything that had already been set in stone. Your silent tears didn’t wake him, but they wet his hair a bit and when he woke up you fake laughed and said you drooled on his head and he fake laughed and said that was disgusting. And they you couldn’t laugh so you just cried and try to pull him closer, hide him, save him, keep him safe. And when you told him not to go you know he knew what you really meant, but all he did was reply “I guess I can sleep in today.”

And you didn’t let him leave until he complained how badly he had to go to the bathroom and then you realized you were really hungry. But you didn’t leave his little apartment and you barely let him out of your sight, let alone more than a foot away from your being. You hovered. When you didn’t hover you touched. You rested your head on his shoulder, took his hand, planted your forehead on his back and squeeze him with your arms. When he sat down you rested your head on his shoulder, his arm, his lap. You only gave him enough room to breathe.

He didn’t say anything. He just accepted every touch, received you and welcomed you. Fingers running through your hair and little squeezes from his hand against yours.

When a stranger tried to hug you it was like you were a plane trying to land, but there was no runway and you crashed into trees and rocks. When you hugged John you landed so easily and safely. There was no turbulence approaching him, and the actions were memorized and anticipated.

And every time you leaned into him in those strange hours you felt like you were arriving, and every time you pulled away you were departing. But there was nowhere else to land and so you could only drift until you once again crashed, or arrived.

He had known for about 2 weeks. You asked him why he hadn’t told you and he just looked at you.

“Would you really want people crying all over you before you even had the chance to wrap your head around it?”

You wanted to catch your words and shove them back in your mouth. Of course he had needed time to come to terms with it, but it didn’t make you feel any less left behind. The truth is you don’t know if you would have told John had you been in his shoes. You might just do a bunch of normal shit, just spend time with him and the girls, maybe something a bit special, but really you just don’t know. You were never as strong as John was. He had the ability to carry burdens that would crush you, and deal with the kind of pain that would end you.

“So why did you end up telling us? Not that I would have wanted that, but why now?”

And he smiled at you.

“Because I’m scared. And I need you guys.”

You could see the smile waver and the eyes glisten but he held back. You didn’t want him to. You wanted him to yell and scream and cry because he had the right to, he didn’t have to just sit there and take it. Why should anyone act calmly when life throws that kind of shit at you?

Instead you move from the 2 inches away from him to touching his shoulder, and then pulling him closer.

“Honestly I think I really need you for support almost more than you need me. I’m pretty fucking pathetic without you dude.”

He laughed a little and you smiled a bit. Your sunglasses had been off for a while, and he looked at you with an invisible message hiding in his baby blues.

_Thank you._

You wished he could see all the scrambled words trying to show in your own, but you also didn’t. Because this cancer thing? This terminal illness? This was it. This was the thing that gave you a time limit with John Egbert, and you had 2 choices on how to approach this.

You could be his friend in this, you could hold his hand and sleep in hospital chairs. You could sneak him candy bars and tell jokes. You could fill all the time he had to think about death with your own words of distraction.

Or you could take this countdown and selfishly give in to the last chance riding on your shoulders. You could tell him how you feel, he could reciprocate, and you could hold his hand and kiss him, and sleep in his hospital bed with him. You could sneak him candy bars and whisper stupid sweet things in his ear. You could clear every tear with a kiss and every pain with an embrace.

You could tell him you love him, and he could know you meant so much more than as his friend.

And if he should reject you, you would not waver from loving him, and neither would you leave his side for even a moment less. Because you know that loving John will mean loving him until the end, and then long after, and possibly forever.

You don’t know which option will result in a bigger scar when it’s over, even though really you do and you don’t want to consider it.

Would he still say thank you if he knew you had imagined every possible death for his first 3 girlfriends even though they were all so kind? Or if he knew that when he had told you he finally lost his virginity you had sliced your couch in half with a stupid sword because you are a tiny fucking child capable of adult sized tantrums. Would he still be thanking you if he realized every song you made since 10th grade had hidden piano distortions of his music because you wanted him to listen to it and actually hear the hours you poured into taking his songs and then covering them up over and over because you are a coward who fears his absence and loves too strongly to be healthy. He was your friend and then your crush, then your wet dreams and desire, and then your cause of torment because you thought sex could be dealt with, hormones could steady, but love could tear a man apart and disintegrate your happiness.

You had left the thoughts alone and curled into him, using the fact that he was dying as an excuse to be clingy and close, which you guess is actually a very good excuse. You slept over again after a day of talking about little nothings and doing meaningless tasks. You clung to him because you were drowning and not sure if you were going to make it back up for air. He held you back, as tightly as you did because fuck he was scared and you knew it. And you were at a loss because hell if you weren’t scared absolutely shitless of a John-less world.

When you woke up with burning eyes from tears and the sound of footsteps and voices you knew your visiting hours were over for now. The bed was empty save for your own useless body, and you could tell it was Rose on the other side of the wall.

She was telling him she needed to talk to you, that Jade wanted time to spend with him too but didn’t want to get in your way. She needed to take you home and help you so you wouldn’t act like an impossible child. John said he wanted you to be there, she said she knew, but she didn’t want you like this for the next 4 months.

_4 months._

A timeframe, set and decided by white coats and numbers.

When she came to collect you she wore the expression you saw in the mirror. Red rimmed eyes and forced composition. You just nodded at her and got up, and you being the selfish dick you were didn’t give her the hug she was silently aching for, the comfort she needed because she was loosing a friend too. You just walked past because she was trying to take you away, trying to help you but still taking you away. You walk straight into John’s arms and hold onto him for a bit, saying you’ll be back soon, you just have to deal with the witch’s treatments. You promise to be back as soon as Jade gets her fill of John time, and you can chill again. He nods into your shoulder.

When you leave you turn back to see him standing there, watching you both walk away, and you realize that that is exactly what you will be doing.

You are walking away, each day getting further. You are leaving him in a set time while you keep living, and he keeps dying.

Life, as you knew, was a cruel. But cruel can be yelling at a child or killing thousands in an earthquake.

But you’re starting to think this kind of cruel isn’t worth living through, because a life without John isn’t worth anything.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose and Dave discuss the topic of love while comforting one another. Details of the past are mentioned.  
> Dave POV

Rose now had you situated in her little living room. The place was messy as hell, as was usual. The whole place looked like one purple blob if you squinted, and there were randomly collected items everywhere that both did and didn’t suit the place. It was still a kid-just-out-of-college kind of place, but maintained well enough to pass as a good home. Rose’s physiological thesis paper in college had gotten her a good bit of attention, and she was making a good amount for someone who was only 25. Still, Rose had a well saved inheritance from her late mother, who had died just as she entered college. All of you had no living family members, unless you counted Jade’s dog. He grandfather had died when she was just a kid, and you still have trouble believing that she learned to survive on her own on that fucking island but knowing Jade she probably killed bears with her bear hands (pun intended). Your Bro had died as well, though before Rose’s mom. He was your legal guardian, and you were only 16 close to 17 at the time. He had gone missing, real missing, not just hiding in his room for days missing. You hadn’t called the police, if bro couldn’t hadn’t something the police probably couldn’t, and you were in a pretty big state of denial around that time. You thought it was a test of sorts, see how well Dave does without bro around. You ate, slept, went to school, etc. you even paid the bills when the time came, getting the courage to go into bros room and get his finance info.

About a full year later the police called, saying they needed a body identified. You texted Rose, not knowing what to do. She was still living with her mom in New York at the time, but she came to Texas. The thing is you didn’t tell John or Jade. You didn’t want to erase all the happy emoticons when the texted you because you were dealing with shit. John was stressed about getting into college, Jade long since basically living with him at that point, having been declared the adopted sister/rescued jungle child/best friend.

You went to the police station with Rose, and from there a morgue. The body you saw wasn’t the man that had trained you to be strong and tough and cool. The body was too pale, too dirty and shrunken. Too wrong with the old decrepit gash in the chest. The police said he had been murdered, the detailed unknown. His body had been like this for a while, undetected by anyone and then unrecognizable by the police.

They asked if he was related to you. If his last name was in fact Strider, if he was your legal guardian and only family.

You wanted to say no. You wanted to tell them to fuck off and go find Bro and tell him this shit wasn’t funny. That this test to see how strong you really were wasn’t ok anymore. That the human in a metal death drawer couldn’t be real because bro could flash step so fast he didn’t exist for moments and could slice planets in half on his own.

But you didn’t say no.

You nodded, and you answered with one word answers, and Rose held you steady, speaking when necessary. If it wasn’t for her they probably would have thrown you into a foster home, but she had negotiated. You were already almost 18, and had a place to stay with money in the bank and a paid high school education.

And then you told John and suddenly everyone was in Washington. Rose was able to continue her work from anywhere, already accepted into all her colleges and basically done high school. Jade didn’t really care about college that much, but had the highest SAT score you’d ever seen and a few scholarships from ivy leagues. And John had been John. He had dropped everything and taken you almost forcefully into his life. His father had been letting Jade live with them for almost 4 years now, and he didn’t even ask that many questions or anything before suddenly you were sleeping on an air mattress right beside John, you name attached to everything bro had owned and your life officially unattached to anyone legally. You finished your senior year with John and Jade. You had only cried once, and of all times it was when John had been watching National Treasure. You were just sitting there, eating macaroni and cheese with him, and he was looking attentively at the screen and it hit you that bro had died, alone and weak, and you might have been able to save him but you didn’t. He died, he was missing, and yet you hadn’t done anything. The most powerful person you knew died somewhere so unimportant that no one found the body right away, and then rested in a metal file cabinet with dozens of other bodies for you to find. And John had taken you into his life and offered you everything his, and Jade had been there to cheer you up before you knew you were even sad, and Rose had taken care of the problems you couldn’t handle.

And you wept like a damn baby. It started and hit you so hard you thought you couldn’t breathe. You hadn’t cried in a long time, you had forgotten that it was like chocking on air and physical pain at the same time. You didn’t even register arms around you until you had calmed down. You felt sick and cold, and you were shaking. You were embarrassed and so tired, and you wanted to hide so you just smooshed your face into John’s shirt.

There was a long stretch of time where you just told him things about that time period without Bro, how you hadn’t even questioned his absence and couldn’t even admit at the time that you missed him. And how you missed him now and you wish he hadn’t died like that, how you couldn’t see Bro dying in anything other way than some kind of amazing and epic showdown with explosions and worlds ending. You told him how upset you were when the police said they didn’t know who killed him, and how angry you were at them and how furious you were at the person who had the nerve to best someone capable of so much.

And when you felt empty and drained you also felt a lot lighter. Not any less sad, but not as heavy with thoughts you hadn’t been ready to share. John had said a lot of comforting words, and you know he didn’t understand the situation of your feelings, but he tried and you appreciated that. He was there for you and listened to what you had to say without judgment of any sort, and you needed that. Jade had walked in later and joined the cuddle puddle, and John being himself decided to skype Rose for some sort of virtual hug thing, claiming he didn’t want to leave her out.

When Rose’s mom had died only a few months later she had grieved alone. Even when the three of you managed to make it all the way to New York form Washington she pushed you away. She did everything herself, arranged a funeral, signed legal papers, she even sold her old house. You, John and Jade had all been enrolled in a small college in Washington, unable to agree on one single school anywhere else, and in the end just going for a close place where you could all major in different areas. Rose had been attending a college in New York City, and before you knew it she was telling you she was already enrolled in your own college, her credits transferring easily. Her mother had died suddenly, of what you still don’t really know, but she had left everything to Rose and made it easy for all her assets to transfer.

When she told you that you understood it was one of her cries for help. He silent words of accept me, take me in, comfort me, help me.

And you did. She spent small moments crying on all your shoulders, but she still couldn’t be very open about her pain. She was like you in that respect. She was just as unreadable as you, but in a very different way. You both build walls and used masks, and you could make cracks in each others facades, but John and Jade were the ones to demolish them. You were too awkward and ill suited to comfort Rose most of the time, but you could provide company and small reassurances. She grieved, mostly alone and hidden, but she managed to get through her grief and move forward. It didn’t mean she was any less fucked up like you were, but she had true talent in hiding it. There was a time period where Rose resorted to alcohol, and for a while you were really afraid because fuck if you knew how to help her. And hell, you didn’t want Rose to be a drunk idiot, but you didn’t want to see her cold and distant and sad again. You all worked together to help her through it, and she was able to keep clear of drinking almost entirely in college. She had her little break downs, like everyone does, but she managed to land on her feet.

And then there was John’s father. You were all your third year in college by then, doing well in your own fields. Jade and Rose were both actually on Scholarship, Jade for physical sciences and engineering, and Rose for English and Phycology. John was in Biology, as expected, and you were an art kid, working in music and random side projects. You even took a few archeology courses.

It wasn’t even John that had answered the phone, it was Rose. She had known Mr. Egbert like you all had, as a parental figure who only offered kindness and accepted you all into his life easily. When John’s phone had rang with the caller ID being his father, and then with Rose being the only one in the room with his cell while you and Jade were playing cards and John was on his laptop. She had come into the room and you knew something was wrong because she looked sick and small. And John had headphones on and wasn’t looking, and Jade was confused but knew something was off. Rose just looked at John, opening and closing her mouth, and then she looked at you and Jade because John was smiling and chuckling at something on the internet, and she had his phone, and there was something she needed to say that wasn’t willing to fall from her lips. You didn’t even have time to ask what exactly happened because John had turned around, wanting to show you and his eyes landed on Rose, standing in the doorway with a pale face and wide eyes, and you watched his smile waver and become fake, like marble turning into plastic.

A heart attack, suddenly and fatal was what killed him. John was in his father’s contacts as “son” so the police had called his number. You were by his side immediately, and someone had said something on the phone because suddenly Rose was growling into the receiver, her face contorted and terrifying. John was in shock, just sitting there and Jade was asking Rose questions.

He broke easily, and openly. He took the phone and thoughts were confirmed, impossible tragedy becoming reality, and phone discarded as tears appeared.

You had all seen John cry, he didn’t hide it really. He showed emotion in ways you never would, allowing the world to see him as he was. He had cried during movies, cried from laugher, cried silently and sobbed loudly. He had cried for your Bro and Rose’s mom, but when his father died John became part of the rest of you all. He became a little broken and empty forever, and was left jut a small amount fucked up. The thing is that your Bro’s death hadn’t broken you. You felt more dented than broken. The dent was manageable and fixed by your friends. Jade hadn’t broken when her grandfather had died, she had accepted it like she was taught to, unique in her ability to get past the bad. Rose would always be hurt from loosing her mother because their relationship was unfinished. They never resolved anything, but in a way were close. John was the one who was broken when his father died. His father had been such an enormous part of his life, definitely the majority. He had literally been there for every minute of John’s own life, and it had been understood that he would continue to be there for the rest.

A ripping apart kind of process was put into action when the phone rang with the news. Two people so closely connected couldn’t just be cleanly separated. Like two people holding hands, if one fell and couldn’t let go, the other went down with them. John was being pulled down by his father’s death, unwilling to let him go and unable to move on.

You watched exactly how John broke. He fell, and unable to land on his feet, he shattered.

He felt alone. He felt vulnerable and scared and you knew this because you had briefly felt a small portion of it. He went through the process of pushing you away, and then giving up and letting you fret over him, and finally reciprocating the attention you all so carefully gave to him. In a way it was humorous, how John was the largest of the group, all broad shoulders and thick arms and just above you in height, was so small and easy to guide in his state of grief. Rose, the smallest of all you with her petite body and slender build would often drag John to his bed to make sure he slept. You or Jade could probably carry him if you needed to, yet John was pliant in anyone’s hands. He retreated into himself and everyday you pulled him out. Somehow he continued school work. He stayed above water, if barely. You might have gotten an A on your final and not a B- if you hadn’t stayed up helping John finish papers he had forgotten about in his frazzled mind, but grades had never been much of a concern to any of you, or at least to you and Jade.

The funeral was held in the summer. The day the body was buried it was sunny and warm, and you had driven past laughing children and chirping birds. John said very few words. Many of the people attending were strangers to him, people that may not have even met his father face to face but had a deep respect for the man. John didn’t cry until long after it was over, when he sat down on your shared couch in his black suit, looking for all the world like a prince with silken hair to match his jacket and pants and eyes that matched the sky yet were clouded in such pain. He was beautiful, even in all his anguish. You remember how much love you had felt for him, how badly you wished you could take the pain from him and carry his troubles. You were allowed to hold his hand because friends can comfort like that at certain moments. But you could not kiss his tears away, or hold him at night as a lover would.

It was a hard time for everyone in your small unofficial family, but piece-by-piece John was put back together, and though his cracks were still visible and delicate, there were no sharp edges surrounding gaping holes.

When you all graduated you took separate places to make your home. Even though it was typically John’s new apartment everyone gathered in, there was a need for solidarity and a desire for uniqueness. Rose had her messy but beautiful loft with more books than shelf space possible, Jade had her weird apartment with the hole in the wall bedroom the size of a closet but enormous living room packed with weird plants and machinery. You had a shitty 2 rooms 1 bathroom place with your designated bedroom converted to a studio and your living room/ kitchen your place of rest with the pull out couch and comforting collection of weaponry. John had an utterly normal apartment, with a plain bedroom and bathroom and a tiny area that took up the remaining space beyond the perfectly maintained and spotless kitchen. In all the time you had spend in John’s apartment, he very rarely actually cooked or baked. It was a silent understanding to never move or contaminate anything within the kitchen space, and if you wanted anything you would ask John because it was just easier for him to get you it than go through the process of watching him reorganize and clean for an hour. The kitchen, it seemed, was a shrine to the memory left by Mr. Egbert. A reminder that it was where he would be, but where he never would actually appear. You’re unsure how much John has progressed in his cooking experience, since he was so adamant about not baking when his father lived, and then not even trying after his death for so long. It had only been this year and maybe a bit last year did you notice traces of experimentation with the oven and stovetop, of ingredients used in dishes more complex than just a sandwich or quick snack. Rose had told you that it was a step forward when you inquired, though you wondered if he would even openly try cooking or baking around any of you ever again.

There had been a few times when he had made something in college before his father’s death. He had even made baked goods, (never box mixes though, and only one cake ever). They were small treats he gave to you all, after a test you worried about, or a project that had left you tired and frustrated. You didn’t really know when he managed to make most of the stuff since he was just as busy as all of you, but you do remember going to get him for a study session, only to step back and watch as he finished what would be a surprise for all of you. It was a rare moment, very much like when John played piano, that you could watch him as he worked completely oblivious to the outside world. He moved like he was dancing to a rhythm you couldn’t hear, hands reaching out and conducting ingredients in perfect time with the movement of his legs as he stepped back and forth, mixing and adding, tasting and directing. His eyes only swayed from certain items, his lids would close when he felt an item he needed securely in his touch and reopen only to lead the item to its destination.

You remember falling in love with John all over again without even realizing it.

You didn’t let him see you, as if he really could in his trance, and when he finally finished, pulling the tray from the oven revealing assorted muffins, you had slipped away, not to return to the group, but to watch him pass by your shadow while you waited until he was gone. You breathed in the air that seemed coated in sugar, and allowed yourself a moment to take apart the memory of minutes and seconds ago, to rearrange John in your mind until there wasn’t anything there but him and his movements. You replayed the content look on his face with the naturalness of everything he did.

You watched him dance to his own beat, and you wondered if you would ever see it again.

You rejoined the group, feigning surprise and muttering about looking in the wrong place for John this whole time. You ate and smiled and studied with your little family, and watched how even though John was not faking his movements or words, his expressions or anything, what he seemed like now appeared slightly artificial compared to the man that had moved like water when he thought he was alone.

It made you wonder thing like how he would move under the darkness of blankets, when eyes were closed and skin moved with skin. Would he close his eyes and dance for you, sing for you, and open them to see nothing and everything as his body reacted naturally, perfectly to yours? Would you be able to watch him act with the flow that belonged to him privately, without it being a secret?

You had felt shallow, but not ashamed to have considered the way his body moved in a sexual manner. When you had not spent time watching the pleased grin or closed eyes, you had watched his hands, his slim fingers, his back muscles and hips.

A guys allowed to fantasize.

“Dave.”

 You are pulled from the past and into the present of Rose’s apartment. You’re sitting on one of her antique looking couches that’s not really comfortable. You’re damn sure she herself is sitting in the only comfortable chair around, and she reserves the hard seated furniture for people like you, i.e. people she wants to torture in her little Rose ways.

You were very content to stay in the past, going through events of your life surrounded by your friends without anything hanging over your heads. When John’s dad had died, it was like a closing ceremony to you all. There was nothing else to loose besides each other, and it was a silent agreement you would all never separate, never leave each other, and always be there for one another.

But now this thing with John was happening, and you were feelings a hell of a lot of things, but you also felt a slight betrayal, almost like John had broken this promise on purpose and was going to leave you. You knew of course that this wasn’t true at all, since no on fucking wants cancer, you guess you’re just feeling too much at once to sort out the right thoughts. You don’t know what the right thoughts are, but you feel like its important to remember all of a sudden.

 

“Dave!”

 

Oh right Rose.

 

“Sup.”

 

There’s silence for a bit after you say it, and you honestly want to laugh. It was such an instinctive answer to your name being spoken, it took so much of the seriousness away from what she was probably going to talk about. You had even said it in your monotone chill voice. What was also entertaining was the fact that Rose was starting at you incredulously. Although that wasn’t actually really funny, that was more terrifying, since it meant Rose was about to lay on some heavy shit.

 

“…Dave, I’m going to ask you one question now, and probably a lot later. From this point on, no lies. You tell me the truth, you enunciate, you explain, you don’t hide behind those damn glasses-

 

At this she actually grabbed your shades and ripped them from your face faster than you could stop her. She at least folded them neatly and placed them in her pocket.

 

-and you don’t use your extensive metaphors to avoid topics or difficult things. You don’t hide, and you don’t lie, and you don’t avoid. That’s what’s going on here, and you can expect the same from me.”

 

For a second you just stare at her, your carefully composed face even more rigid now that the defense of your glasses doesn’t exist.

 

“So, what. No more sassy little smart ass comments on everything I say from you? You’re not going to act like a metaphor loaded therapist or any of that shit? Just straight answers?”

 

She narrows her eyes at you, she’s angry, but she’s not yelling at you at least.

 

“I will give you straight answers, yes. And you WILL give me them too.”

 

It wasn’t a question. You found the argument you might have had for her dying in your throat, so you just stare back.

Her eyes are still red rimmed from crying, and her usual posture of confidence and refinedness had turned to the curling of shoulders as she all but huddled into herself. She was fragile, like all of you were right now.

 

“Dave, do you still love John in the romantic sense?”

 

You were already kind of expecting this question, but you didn’t really think she would go straight into it. You guess she wasn’t lying about being blunt today. No tiptoeing around anything. You think about giving her a hard time but you don’t have it in you. She’s already opened up a lot to you in her own way within the time you sat down. So you go ahead and loosen your rigid face, letting your eyes droop down, your shoulders slump more than usual. Your grab onto your own hands and squeeze for comfort that isn’t there.

 

“Yes.”

 

You hear her sigh, and you don’t know if its in relief or exasperation or what, but she does reach over (you don’t remember her being so close) and takes your hand. Her small hand feels bony and cold in your own. Bird bones in your calloused fingers. You don’t look up at her.

 

“I just want you to talk for a little, please. I want to know why you love him. I want you to talk about him to me.”

 

The request seems odd, but at the same time it doesn’t. You both don’t have a barrier around yourselves anymore, it seems like there’s one big shell surrounding the two of you though, but your both in it. You’re safe for the time being through a promise and trust. And maybe Rose just wants to hear someone else instead of the thoughts in her head right now. Either way, you go ahead and speak without hiding.

 

“I love John because he’s John. And you know who John is. You know how he’s kind to strangers and sometimes a little shit when he’s comfortable, that he can be a sarcastic douche and that he can be a sweet idiot. He can be a genius and still be a goober at the same time. He can be sensitive, and he wears his heart on his sleeve and that makes it easy for people to hurt him, so I always want to protect him. But he’s not weak or anything, I know he’s strong. Both physically and mentally. Shit I just don’t know what I’m doing here should I keep going or can you give me some direction Rose?”

 

“When exactly did you fall in love with him. I never really knew, I just figured it out eventually. I knew you had a crush on him for ages of course.”

 

“Right, of course. You and your damn ability to see all and whatnot. Ok. I guess I really fell in love when Bro was gone. At first I thought I could just distract myself from him being gone by talking to John all the time and stuff, maybe work on confessing, not that that happened, and bam. Hit me like a fucking truck at some point during a conversation, I almost typed out the words ‘I love you’ right there. He didn’t even say anything special, I don’t even know what we were talking about or the day or anything. And then I found out bro died and it just made me cling to him harder cuz I was afraid that if bro could go that easily John might just disappear too. And since I basically stated living with him by then and I was around him all the time and he was being so fucking gentle too, always asking how I was and making me feel comfortable and treating me like some spoiled kid. Not to say you and Jade weren’t there for me, because I couldn’t have done any of it without you guys, it was just that, John kind of just, I don’t know. I was in love with him and a lot of shit hurt, and I guess when you love someone like that and they’re willing to spend all this time with you, even if its platonically, it still feels really good.”

 

Roses hand was holding yours even tighter now, probably remembering the hard time you were all going through, Rose especially because he mother had died so soon afterwards. A thought occurs to you.

 

“Were you even in love? Or I mean, you never really mentioned any boyfriends, or anyone actually. Jade had a whole shitload of boy toys, remember high school? Girl was a major player, she even had some bitches chasin her, wanting a piece of Harley. And then John had a few girl friends. Hell I even had a girlfriend in middle school. And even if dating kinda stopped working I aint a virgin. Shit now that I think about it I hope Jade was safe.”

 

She lets you ramble for a bit, and when you stop you glance at her. She’s not actually looking at you, her gaze seems far away, but you knows she’s paying attention.

 

“Sometimes…I get very sad because I think there was someone I loved very much, but was never with.”

 

This surprises you. You always though it Rose found someone, she would pursue them, or more likely Rose would be approached, and someone would catch her attention.

 

“You mean you never got the courage to go up to some crush and show them Lalonde moves? I didn’t think you’d be shy around hot people considering we talk all the time.”

 

“No, it wasn’t that. I never met them. Its like I know they exist, but I never found them and I never will. Even though that feels like a far fetched thing to say, and ridiculous to say the least, it still hurts for some reason.”

 

“…so you’re saying you have a soul mate out there, but you’re never gonna meet him.”

 

“Actually I get the feeling it was a her, not him.”

 

“Ok I know you said straight answers and everything but it really feels like you’re bullshitting me right now and that’s pretty cold cuz I basically just poured my heart out here.”

 

“I know it sounds unbelievably strange, and in itself, unbelievable. And though I’ve only dated a few people I did once date one or two women. However, dating other people began to feel wrong after a while, and even though I still had sexual-

 

“Ok lets not go there ew-

 

-encounters, nothing felt meaningful or had any potential. Quite honestly, it was quite a bit like what happened to you after you realized you were in love with John. I stopped dating because I felt, and feel, bound to someone else.”

 

You look at her and she’s turned back towards you. You know she’s being serious, but the idea is still pretty unbelievable. You’re not sure what she’s even really trying to say, if anything. However you do note that she looks a particular type of sad, and under layer of grief hidden behind the pain of John’s news. You realize that your friend, and lets face it, kind of adopted sister, is probably very lonely, and unlike you, she doesn’t seem to be anywhere near the person she appears to be in love with.

 

“You really feel like there’s someone out there that you’re already in love with, some chick, and you’re just accepting you’re never gonna meet them ever? That pretty pessimistic, all things considered. How do you know the lucky lady isn’t just around the corner?”

 

“It is nothing more than a feeling, but it is incredibly strong. Almost as if I am reading it in a book as a fact. I have no other way than to describe it as such. And it leaves me feeling bitter. Almost impossibly so sometimes. We will never meet, and this is so strongly suggested within my mind that I have often grieved about it in solitude.”

 

You’re not sure what to say. How do you comfort someone who believes the love of their life exists but will never meet them? It was so unlike Rose to be this serious about something so strange and impossible sounding. You’re tempted to think she’s just really lonely and sad but this is Rose. She keeps her head when it matters, and she’s not crazy or fucking with you.

 

“Anyways, I should update you with Jade. She was a mess after we left you and John, and stayed here with me for the night. She considers John a brother, and is the only one of us without experience in the manner of loosing loved ones at an age of understanding. Her grandfather died before she could even comprehend that death meant loss, and seeing how its tradition in her family to stuff a relative’s body and have them displayed and even talked to, I’d say she’s actually handling this much better than I thought she would.”

 

You feel really bad that you hadn’t been thinking that much about Jade’s misery, or even Rose’s all that much. Jade has by far lived with John the longest, and they did practically grow up together as siblings. They share a connection like you and Rose do, and you know if Rose were the one dying, you would be the one grieving as the family member, and the loss would possibly hit you the hardest. Jade was so beautiful and brilliant, and smiled so often it was shocking to see her so sad. You have no doubt John is holding her right now as she sobs.

 

“But Jade had endured more than we ever have on her own. She’ll no doubt be the captain of this voyage, holding us together. I just thought you might want to know about he well beings, even though this is much more about John than any of us.”

 

“Thanks. Yeah, I know she’s a brave as hell girl, she can get through anything. I’ll be sure to hang out with her soon, make sure she’s alright and all.”

 

“None of us are alright Dave, and we wont be for quite a while.”

 

“No shit. Doesn’t mean we cant ignore that little fact.”

 

“On the contrary it means we CANT ignore that fact at all. We are faced with a timeframe, a small one at that. We need to face everything head on so that we can get through our own problems and be there for John, like he needs us to.”

 

You mull over her words, knowing there’s more meaning there, you just don’t know what.

 

“Which start by dealing with you’re situation with John, meaning your feelings.”

 

There it is.

 

“I’m guess you’ve thought about this, but you now have both a very good reason and a very bad reason to tell John you love him in the romantic sense. If you confess and a relationship is born, you will be able to spend the remainder of the time loving John. If he were to reject you, you would no doubt still be closest of friends, as John would never push you away for any reason, and you would continue on until…you couldn’t. And then there’s the possibility of continuing to hide your feelings and then regretting doing so for the rest of your life.”

 

“Tell me if I’m wrong but it seems like you’re pushing for one option over the other.”

 

“Dave, you have spent YEARS loving this man, and you now have far less time than any of us thought to spend with him. If you could experience being with John, even for a little while, don’t you think it would be worth it?”

 

“If you could be in a relationship with your soul mate girl person for 4 months, maybe 2 healthy ones, then watch her wither away and die, wouldn’t you choose to not know her?”

 

You couldn’t help but say it harshly.

 

“I would not. I would choose to be with her until out time is up, even if that time is short. If its love, than I believe its worth it.”

 

“Well you’re not in my shoes, so I don’t think you really have the same perspective as I do.”

 

“You’re right. I don’t get the opportunity to be a drive away from the person I love. I’ll never get to see them smile or even touch them. I will never have the opportunity to say ‘I love you’. How dare I put myself in your shoes, where I could have hope.”

 

She withdrew her hand, her voice far colder than her skin. Each word sounded like a curse, and you knew that you had just hurt her a lot. Rose was dealing with something outside of your own life, and you had been selfish about it.

 

“I didn’t mean it. I’m sorry. I know I’m actually in a better love situation than you are, as impossible as that seems because I’m in a pretty shitty situation actually, but I didn’t mean to make you feel like shit.”

 

“No, I over reacted. Of course you didn’t mean to upset me.”

 

“That doesn’t mean I’m not sorry I did. I’m not good with this laying out feelings thing, neither of us are. This feeling stuff is Egbert and Harley territory. They fucking claimed it. Raised a little flag and everything. They probably give tours like ‘and here is where we are able to discuss family matters in a healthy way’ and you and me are just sitting over here on emotion island, probably drowning because the island’s so small.”

 

“Would the island be small because we have no emotions or because we conceal all emotions or because we cannot talk about our emotions?”

 

“Maybe all of the above. I know I don’t feel emotion. Never. Nope. You?”

 

“Oh I don’t really know what emotions are. Once I heard someone talk about feelings, but my main processor was unable to comprehend the meaning.”

 

“When did we become robots?”

 

“When it became apparently easier to deal with our issues without the burden of emotion and strain of such messy things as heartache.”

 

“Well shit let’s be robots.”

 

You both smile at each other, some of the tension lifted.

 

“You know what I just realized? We’re both gay for someone. I’m gay for John and he’s straight, and you’re gay for someone you’ve never met.”

 

Rose actually laughs at that.

 

“You make it sound so much worse like that. But maybe I can make us matching rainbow hats. Jade will want one of course, and if we all wear one then John will probably join in if we convince him.”

 

“You make it sound like we could convert John to the side of the gays. Would that make Jade gay too?”

 

“She’s had relationships with girls, and she’s actually already said she was pansexual. I thought it was common knowledge since she came out like it was obvious even before high school. Besides you’re bisexual, and I still have interest in men so none of us are actually gay in the homosexual sense.”

 

“Yeah but all out colors fall under the rainbow anyways.”

 

“True, and we all love to be so very flamboyant.”

 

“Jade wears bright as fuck stuff all the time.”

 

“I meant your disturbing habit of wearing nothing but frilly skirts around town. It’s getting out of hand and you’re scaring children. You should probably just do it in private from now on or wear underwear.”

 

“one time, ONE time I did that for truth or dare and we were all piss drunk. How do you even remember that.”

 

“John took pictures.”

 

“I burned those fucking things to ashes and stepped on them then I went on his computer and wiped any traces of them, and then I cleaned out his phone of those fuckers. I deleted the shit out of those things, I left no evidence. Cops cant trace me back to that shit.”

 

“John texted them to me and jade right after he took them. Did you honestly not think of that? Technology is amazing, I know Dave.”

 

“Shut the fuck up Rose.”

 

She spends a good deal of time chuckling at you, and you eventually join in. Rose’s cat appears out of nowhere and hisses in your ear and you somehow end up on the floor, causing the both of you to burst into outright laughter.

When you calm down you look back up at Rose, and she’s crying. There’s a broken smile on her face, and she brushes the tears away but they form faster than she can discard them.

Because you are Dave Strider, and all forms of awkward and socially inept, you sit up a little and crawl to her on the floor, and lay your head in her lap as your wrap your arms around her little waist. She leans forward and lets her head rest on top of your own, which is probably really uncomfortable for her. She begins to cry harder, no longer silent and you hold her tighter in your awkward position.

 

“How could this happen?”

 

Her quite words reach you easily, even through her cracked voice. It’s enough to break open the dam you had so carefully constructed behind your eyes to keep the tears at bay, hoping for once to be the strong one. The one to comfort and not be comforted. The one to hold it together instead of falling apart so easily. You don’t think Rose hold its against you as you let the salty water run down your face into her clothes.

As she calms down you continue your silent crying, still squeezing her.

 

“Promise me you’ll tell John, before you cant.”

 

Normally you would bitch and whine and avoid the whole topic and come up with some smart ass remark but this isn’t normally anymore. Normally is no longer a thing. She isn’t asking you something small with a confident and composed look, she is asking you for a task that scares the shit out of you as she reveals the pain she is suffering from.

So you just nod into Roses lap, soaking her long skirt as you cry, trying to get your fucking eyes to stop leaking, and failing miserably.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> 4am conversations and worry cakes

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> EDIT: shit fuck why arent the pesterlog colors working shit sorry

You leave Rose’s apartment well after dark, she had fallen asleep after crying with you, and you had moved her to her little bedroom. You know she usually gets pissed when you go in her room, but you’re not doing anything, just getting her to bed. You make sure her doors locked, but don’t leave a note. You’ll be seeing each other pretty soon, and probably for a while. It’s not like any of you both to spend more than a few days without visiting one another, even though you all have jobs. Rose can write from her apartment though, but makes specific time deemed her working hours, and Jade works for various corporations, creating the latest thing they all didn’t know they needed, but mostly lives off of weird commission for random engineering (you’re like 40% sure she’s making robot furry things) while still being fairly rich from her Grandfather. You sell photography and actually make enough off of that and mixing music on request for live and virtual audiences that you can live easily enough. John did a lot of paid internships at various science places and shit, but you guess now that’s over. All of your work is basically over now anyways too, since none of it matters compared to the matter at hand. You doubt there will be a full day where any of you aren’t together.

You make it back to your place at around 2am only to toss and turn, slipping out of horrible dreams and deciding its not worth it. By 4 you’re drinking coffee, already feeling the buzz of caffeine. You check your email. You log on to Pesterchum, but everyone else is wait no John is logged on.

Why is John awake?

 

\--turntechGodhead [TG] has begun perstering ectoBiologist [EB] at 4:13AM--

 

TG: hey

TG: you awake

EB: yup.

TG: jade? 

EB: passed out on the couch next to me.

TG: so are you just sitting there awake at 4am watching her sleep

TG: not gonna lie that’s pretty creepy dude

EB: hey she fell asleep during a Harry Potter marathon! She is the one to blame. And obviously I’m watching Harry Potter not snoring mc drools-a-lot.

TG: expecting anyone to stay awake through an entire Harry Potter marathon is like expecting anyone to stay away through a harry potter marathon

TG: do you get what im saying because im saying its impossible

EB: Jade’s done it before with the Lord of the Rings, Harry Potter should be no problem for her! And I’m at the fourth movie already so there.

TG: wow only 3 more movies to go what is that like 10 hours left

EB: I think around 7?

TG: so why aren’t you asleep

TG: did jade say anything bad

EB: well

EB: I mean,

EB: It was a pretty heavy conversation, but that was kind of expected. I actually stayed awake most of the time when you were over.

TG: but you were literally right next to me

TG: you were literally sleeping right next to me I was right there

EB: It was more like you passed out like a log and I tried to fall asleep but couldn’t. You wouldn’t have noticed if I had set the bed on fire Dave, I probably could have pulled a good prank or 2 on you, but, yeah.

EB: you also looked so tired, and you were so clingy I don’t think I could have gotten up!

TG: oh yeah sorry about that

TG: shit was kinda emotional

EB: well duh! I have cancer you dork.

 

You’re caught of guard with how straight forward he is about it, but you guess that was kind of the point of telling you all and going through the whole acceptance part. Its still disturbing to read, and you find your eyes stuck on the word ‘cancer’, hoping that maybe if you glare at it enough it will just disappear.

 

EB: Dave?

EB: I didn’t mean to upset you, we don’t have to talk about it.

EB: I understand if you don’t want to, ok?

TG: shit no im fine sorry

TG: just thinking about rose, she fell asleep on me too actually

TG: I had to get her to bed she was so out of it

TG: I should have taken a picture actually shit why didn’t I think of that

TG: I probably could have put weird shit all over her too

EB: you lost your chance dude! Totally blew it. This is why you’ll never be a great prankster like me. 

EB: I would have thought of pranking immediately!

TG: yeah I guess my brain just isn’t set to massive pranking nerd tool person

EB: I’m pretty sure its just stuck on tool person for you.

TG: you hurt me so

TG: when am I ever a tool

TG: don’t actually answer that

EB: hehe! You’re such a dork.

TG: yeah but you still love me

  

You feel unsure about typing it, and when you send it you feel nervous. 

 

EB: of course I love you Dave!

EB: but really you do know that right? I love you and Rose and Jade more than anyone. You guys are pretty much my family, and you’re really important to me. Like really REALLY important!

 

Thank the many gods you don’t believe in for Egbert’s sweet and oblivious nature.

 

TG: I love you too man

TG: we all do

TG: that’s why this is

TG: really hard

TG: because yeah we love you

TG: and I don’t know what I

TG: I don’t

  

You stop typing and take a few breaths. You just want to feel more in control. You want to calm down and chill.

 

EB: It’s ok Dave. I know.

 

Fuck. Fuck him and his stupid little reassuring message. Fuck everything. Fuck your stupid tear, fuck his stupid perfect self, fuck fucking cancer, fuck the doctors giving him a death sentence, fuck it all. 

You cry into your hands, watching as blue flashes across the screen. It hurts, oh god it hurts. Everything inside of you wants to crumble and die. You want to hold him so badly but you don’t want to be the friend only crying for himself. John doesn’t deserve that, fuck, John deserves the world and its being taken away from him.

  

EB: Jade and I cried a lot today. She means so much to me because she’s just like my sister you know?

EB: you and Rose are kind of like that so I think you get it. And honestly, when you were asleep the other day and I couldn’t?

EB: I was still really glad you were there.

EB: like, just having you there made me feel a little better because I wasn’t alone. I didn’t have to walk around the room all night thinking about my own death and how much everything scares me.

EB: I could just look over and it was like “oh there’s Dave right there sleeping like a baby” and it was just a nice reason to no do anything.

EB: I could just stay in bed and not really worry about myself, I could worry about you instead! And that was nice.

  

You sob, not even trying anymore. You go ahead and type back, letting your vision blur again and again. 

 

TG: don’t worry about me

TG: why would you worry about me

TG: you cant

TG: You gotta worry about yourself

TG: fuck

EB: but I’m so tired of worrying about myself. I do it all the time now! It’s exhausting. I’d rather worry about you and Jade and Rose anyways.

EB: Thinking about you guys helps take my mind off stuff. Like, cancer stuff.

TG: ok then go ahead and worry your ass off about us

TG: hell make us all a bunch of worry cakes

TG: we can eat them while we all worry about each other

TG: we can throw a worry party

TG: no don’t thrown a worry party I know youre considering it

EB: I wasn’t going to throw a worry party geez!

TG: but you were thinking about it

EB: I was not!

TG: was to

EB: was not!!!

TG: was to

EB: WAS NOT WAS NOT WAS NOT ok just a little.

TG: was to

TG: oh see called it

EB: but I could make a bunch of worry cakes. Or maybe we could all make cakes together! I wonder who would make the best worry cake.

TG: you wanna bake together?

EB: yeah why not! We’ve never done it, and to be honest I just can’t really bake alone. It just doesn’t feel right.

TG: ok shit lets all bake together

TG: were making this happen man

TG: im gonna make a hella fine worry cake you see

EB: you cant even heat up pizza correctly Dave.

TG: I told you you don’t heat up pizza you eat it cold its natural like that don’t fight it

TG: it didn’t want to be heated up so I didn’t heat it up end of story

EB: whatever you say!

TG: but yeah lets make cakes ill go get ingredients

EB: what like right now?

TG: yeah sure why not

EB: It’s almost 5 in the morning!

TG: the early bird gets the bird

EB: It’s the early bird gets the worm.

TG: why would I want a worm what are you implying

EB: Oh my fuck fine! Go get some eggs and butter and other baking things!

EB: BUT NO BOX MIXES!!! AND NO! BETTY! CROCKER!!!!

TG: holy shit I get it

TG: ill leave rose a text to come over at like 7ish

EB: ok sounds good! I’ll just be here with a sleeping Jade snoring over Harry’s voice.

TG: are you still watching goblet of fire

EB: nope! Order of the Phoenix just started!

TG: dork

EB: Tool.

TG: nerd

EB: Asshole!

TG: do I need milk

EB: yes please.

TG: ok see you soon

EB: Ok see you!

 

\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering EctoBiologist [EB]--

 

You sigh and fall back a little in your chair. You had successfully stopped crying, but your eyes hurt from the bright computer screen and your tired lids. Crying so much also hadn’t helped. Still, if John wants to bake with you guys, you’re gonna fucking make that shit happen.

 So it’s around 5am that you grab your wallet and catch one of the late night buses to WallMart. You occasionally have to text John again (“do you need bacon bits for cake?” “No why would you need anything with bacon in it for cake???”) and you may have almost bought bacon bits for making a cake. You eventually give up trying to figure it out on your own and you decide every question you ask John seems to be answered with too much sass (not everyone grew up knowing that cream is different from half and half) you go to the check out and ask for some assistance on god damn baking supplies. The assistant is surprisingly awake and helps clear up a few things for you. You pay, you leave, and you hop on the bus back. You get off one stop later than your own place, John’s apartment being so close. You go ahead and open the door with the key under the floor mat since you don’t want to wake up Jade, even though you think nothing less than a tornado could wake her up sometimes.

  

“Dave?” 

 

His voice is quite, slightly tired and perfectly gentle. Like he is afraid to break the air around you with words. You lift up your shades so you can see in the darkness.

He is sitting where he said he was, on the couch with a snoring Jade on the other side of it. Sure enough, Harry Potter plays on the screen of the TV.

He looks pale in the light of the television despite his tan skin. Images reflect off his glasses, and highlight the shiny parts of his black hair.

He looks like a peaceful ghost, and you don’t like it.

 

“I got baking shit.”

  

He laughs quietly at you. Little pushes and pulls of air causing his wheezy and musical laughter to reach you. You see him detangle himself from Jade’s feet and he pads over to you, silent despite the creaking boards. When he stops he right in front of you, smiling a tired but genuine smile.

 

 “I wasn’t sure how serious you were.”

 

“I’ve never baked before, figured why not. Plus if we all make something at least one thing has to be edible and I’m not about to turn down cake.”

 

His smile broadens, revealing the overbite of his front teeth he never grew out of. They can be hidden now if he doesn’t smile very wide, but you prefer to see them because it means he’s happy enough to smile that big.

 

“You ever see that movie 50/50, where that guy from inception plays this dude who has cancer and uses it to get laid?”

 

“I saw it and no I’m not using my cancer to get either of us laid. Did you get flour?”

 

You look down in the bag. The check out guy must have grabbed flour for you because its there. John just takes the bags and heads over to the kitchen.

You’ve never seen him do anything such as baking in the kitchen, and you’ve never been invited into the sacred space. Yet here John is, unpacking the groceries and ushering you into such space. It feels like you’re hoping a fence that gets taken apart as soon as you get over it.

You watch him unpack the things you bought, and occasionally grabbing things he owns from a cabinet or the fridge.

You lean into him subconsciously, and don’t really even register it until he stops moving. You didn’t even know you closed your eyes until you open them again, your head lying heavily on his back.

 

“If I move you might fall”

 

_I’m falling anyways_

 

“It’s ok.”

 

He hears you. He hears the little cracks slipping through and he turn around slowly enough to reposition you against his chest. And there he holds you as you are fully wrap yourself around him.

  

“Dave, its ok.”

 

“You’re not supposed to be the one saying that.”

 

You’re not crying. Not yet at least.

 

“I’m not the one who needs to be told that right now.”

 

You cling to him. He holds you back. 

 

“I love you.”

 

_More than anything_

 

“I love you too Dave.”

 

_But you don’t understand_

 

You want to kiss him in the soft light before morning really hits. You want to pull him into bed and embrace him in sweetness and envelope him with tenderness. You want him to be yours, jus for a little.

But you can’t say it. Not yet. Not with Jade sleeping on the couch and your eyes burning with fallen tears. Not with the fear twisting your insides at the idea of loosing John. What you need is a little time, just a little, to come to terms with a few things, gain balance, steady yourself.

And then take the leap of faith, knowing that no matter where you land, John will still catch you.

 

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A drunken confession

 

You go ahead and hold onto John for a good couple minutes before you pull away, the sun having risen and the time to wake Jade and call Rose arrived. While John takes the task of awaking the beast that is Jade Harley, you pull out your phone and call Rose. She answers after the third ring, with a groggy but worried “Dave?” to which you answered as any sweet and kind friend would with “yo get over here we’re baking shit with Egbert.” She gave you silence for a moment, like she was going to attempt to ask questions or argue, but in the end she just sighed and said she’d be there in 10.

Meanwhile you hear John literally yelling for Jade to wake up, and make the mistake of trying to help him which ended with you sitting in on the couch with ice on your cheek and Jade apologizing profusely. John had warned you not to get to close, but did you listen? No because you never listen. Fucking Harley and her weird instincts to punch the thing waking her up. Rose arrives a little after, taking in the situation with a roll of the eyes and a beeline for the coffee pot.

You spend most of the time fooling around with Jade. She has the same puffy eyes you all do, but the smiles you share as you brush flour on one another make them invisible, if only for a moment. She paints mustaches and little animals all over you with flour and frosting and anything else that she can stick to you. John and Rose watch you with amusement, John very often giving you two instructions, while Rose seems pretty capable of things herself.

The end result is the four of you standing over 2 cakes, and 2 unrecognizable mounds of mystery. Jade, to her credit, actually managed to make hers look like a volcano while you let your disaster crumble in a natural and not so dignified mess. You gathered the mess together, squished it into a circular shape, and drew a sweet bro and hella jeff doodle.

 

“That’s not even a cake anymore. Its not even FOOD.”

 

“You’re right Egbert, its art. Damn fine art too.”

 

“Is it ironic?”

 

“Yes it is Harley. Yes it is.”

 

You place the cake carefully to the side, to be beheld in all its absolutely shitty glory, while you all take a bite of Jade’s volcano. Whereas she was able to save the appearance, she somehow mixed up the salt with sugar, resulting in everyone grabbing a glass of water and moving hers to the side near yours.

Rose’s cake has a nice pink frosting over it, and is chocolate on the inside. It passes the edible test and actually tastes good. It is allowed to be moved to the tiny table along with John’s cake, his having already passed the edible test just by being made by him.

His is butter cream frosting with dabs of whipped cream and a strawberry for garnish. Its French vanilla on the inside, and tastes like a small piece of heaven.

You all agree that Rose’s cake is good, and will be eaten later, while yours and Jade’s is very clearly not touched or mentioned. Jade and you are more than happy to dig into the Egbert cake, and you all sit down just in time to catch the ending of the 6th Harry Potter movie. You all grab seconds and proceed to watch the 7th movie, all of you arguing over different parts of the movie and book, Rose getting extremely frustrated with their divergence from the original story, while Jade points out her favorite CJI affects. You get into a discussion with John about dormentors and whether you would kiss one if it was in the form of your favorite celebrity or not. By the end most of both John’s and Rose’s cake is gone, and you’re all silently praying that somehow the movie ending will change and Harry wont break the god damn wand like a little shit.

Spoiler; movie doesn’t change just because its your millionth time watching it, and you all give different levels of rage. Rose practically shrieks at the screen, cursing the fuck out of Harry for not just taking the extra minute to return it to Dumblebore’s grave, and looking like she’s on the verge to smashing John’s poor TV.

You all end up letting the very end play as background noise while you clean up, not really in the mood to watch a happy ending with the three magical friends who had all lost so many loved ones. You also don’t want to think about the number three. Three is no longer a number; it’s your future. And it’s dangerous. Three is what your family will be, and three is only one less than four, but one less of anything can mean the difference between balance and instability, a pair vs. a single person, another year to live or not.

Since Rose has rights to John time now that you and Jade have, you leave with the green eyed one, say goodbye to the purple eyes one, and just hug the blue eyes one.

You’re not sure what Rose is going to talk about with John, and you hope its not going to involve you. You immediately feel shallow for thinking that Rose would want to spend her time with John groaning about the shit storm of your life.

So you take Jade’s hand as you both walk away the apartment towards Jade’s jeep. She still isn’t smiling anymore, but she squeezes your hand back.

 

“I’m gonna go to the book store. Do you want to come with me?”

 

You don’t know why Jade would want to go to the bookstore at noon after baking shitty cakes to get over a little bit of extreme grief bur fuck it if you’re not gonna be with her right now, because she doesn’t deserve to be alone and you cant handle being alone.

 

“Yeah, sounds cool.”

 

A couple minutes later you’re parking and silently getting out of her car. It had been a ride full of tension both of you didn’t know how to break, and honestly didn’t want to deal with, so you just left it. Normally Jade was all about breaking things, including silence, and since you don’t know how to deal with a silent, sad Jade you just let it be. You know how piss poor your comforting skills are, and right now you would trade your damn foot for just a little bit of knowledge in that area.

You follow Jade like a lost animal that someone fed and now they wont leave that person alone. She weaves her way through aisles and you have no idea what section you’re in until she stops suddenly enough for you to barely not stumble into her.

You’re eyes widen behind your glasses as you take in the books displayed on the shelf in front of you.

 

“I thought that maybe since I don’t know anything about this kind of stuff…like death as a whole and helping someone who’s going through all this stuff, well. I don’t know it seemed like a good idea at the time! Shit I think we should just leave.”

 

You grab her arm as she turns away, shame written all over her face. She looks back at you pitifully, not fighting you even though she could positively kick your ass in hand to hand.

 

“No, no I think this is actually a good idea. I’m glad I tagged along because fuck if I know anything about this either and I was just thinking ‘wouldn’t it be great if I could get some actual information on this shit’ and then you take me here. Shits crazy Harley.”

 

She gives you a relieved but still hesitant smile. You let go of her arm grab the first couple books your fingers reach.

 

_“Helping Hands: How to Help a Loved One with Cancer”_

_“Family and Friends with Terminal Illness: A Guide”_

_“Ways to Keep Smiling: Helping Others Through Hard Times”_

The shitty peaceful lake scenes behind the cover text don’t encourage you that much, but the descriptions honestly sound decent. Hell, if these were just the first ones you grabbed, you bet there are some that get specifically into all kinds of stuff you need help with.

You end up spending a good chunk of your day with Jade in the special section of the book store for people not directly going through death via cancer, but for people just like you. You get the feeling John would either laugh at you or cry, and you don’t like either ideas. Jade has arms stacked with possibly the cheesiest titled books in the section, all with pretentious authors making their name bigger than the actual name. You grab a bunch, reading the back and narrowing down your pile until you only have 4 you feel ok getting. 2 are basically pamphlets they’re so thin, but they have a good “get to the point” feel to them and the description is blunt as anything. The two heavier ones have equally weird background images of floating things meant to be peaceful, but you go ahead and ignore it because the content seems good for what you want.

You two check out, receiving concerned looks from the cashiers before jumping in the car. It looks like Jade bought the whole fucking section, but you go ahead and don’t comment since she’s actually looking really damn pleased. You look down at your tiny stack and back at her.

 

“Thanks. You know, for brining me.”

 

She smiles at you, and you feel pretty good for the time being.

 

“No problem! I’m glad you came. I don’t actually know if I could have bought this stuff without someone else, so yeah! Thanks!”

 

You feel like you owe her a trip to someplace now too, but its more like an excuse to do what you’ve been wanting to do since last night, but didn’t- no couldn’t, with Rose.

 

“You wanna go get shit faced?”

 

“Only if we be responsible adults and decide not to bake anything else. Like, ever.”

 

“Yeah we really need a lot of supervision for that shit.”

 

 

2 hours later your apartments kitchen resembles a war zone of egg soldiers, something burning in the oven you vaguely remember putting in there, and Jade’s hair gray from flour that exploded when you forgot opening things with swords wasn’t actually normal.

 

~

 

“Naw, no, NO! No its completely, like, loo..lusic, lumic? Fuck it it’s a fukin hard word but no it’s really, really real ok.”

 

You’re lying on your back, one hand holding a rock that was meant to be a cookie, while Jade lounges on the edge of your pull out, just enough so she can reach your toes with the nail polish. What were you talking about again?

 

“What was I sayin?”

 

“Uuuhhhhhhhh I think you…you were a bird. But I said it was fake because you’re NOT a bird. I know these things I swear I went to college you cant prove me wrooonnngggg.”

 

“I was a bird in my dream dumbass, I know I’m not a fucking bird because I can’t fly. We established that when I did the thing, the jumping thing where I jumped. I didn’t fly cuz now I’m on the ground.”

 

“Wait should we try again? Hopy shiiitt Daaaavveee what if your bird was off when that happened!”

 

“My bird aint fukin off cuz there aint naw fukin..switch or anything like I’m just human you cant CHANGE that. It’s against nature that’s definitely a thing.”

 

“I’m a scientist Dave.”

 

“Well in my place we live by my fukin laws of nature things so if I say Ima bird fukin hell im a fuking pissing damn egg bird.”

 

“Birds DON’T PISS EGGS YOU ARE SOOOOO STUPID!!”

 

“Well YOU’RE messin up mah toes!”

 

“Oh nooooooo no no no nooo!”

 

She ends up falling off the couch entirely trying to get the purple on your toenails even, which result in you almost pissing yourself laughing, something Jade easily joins in.

 

“Hehehe! Oh my gosh Dave you’re toes look so bad!”

 

“Why would you do this to me Harbird. Harley.”

 

“Don’t call me bird things no bird things anymore!”

 

“So you can be a furry but I cant be a feathery? Wait are those a thing.”

 

“Shhhhhhhhhuuushhh!!! Combining the best parts of different mammals is so beautiful why don’t any of you fuckers get it!!”

 

“If John was half dog wouldcha fuck him?”

 

“Nooo cuz I’m not gay for John!”

 

“It wouldn’t be gay if you fucked him that’s called straight. Or not gay. No homo.”

 

“I thought you meant you though…”

 

“I literally just said…I don’t remember never fuckin mind.”

 

“You would fuck John if he was part bird though!”

 

“Hell yeah I would. We would have damn fine eggs too fucking hell our kids would be beautiful.”

 

“So you really do love him? Even if he was part bird? With no penis stuff?”

 

“Was Rose talkin to ya? Fuckin Rose she’s such a bitch god damnit whatever yeah I’d love him even with the bird dick thing we’d make it work.”

 

“Dave, Dave you have to tell John you’d love him with a bird dick before its too late!!! DAVE Dave Daaaavvvee this is sooooo important oh my god John is dying Dave!”

 

Jade rolls over until she’s flopped over your stomach. You think she might be crying.

 

“Dave John is gonna die you gotta tell him if you don’t tell him you would still love him as a bird dick thing he’ll never know and it’ll be too late Dave! Dave you have to get the human dick before its too late!!!”

 

She’s crying now and you’re kind of tearing up a bit. Bird dicks are apparently a really emotional topic now.

 

“Jade he might no want dick or bird dick or my dick I really don’t think he wants any dicks I cant just tell him I love his dick.”

 

“You have to Dave! Dave please don’t do this to me I cant watch your dick fall off with sad.”

 

“Dicks not fallin off-

 

“Tell him nooowww! Tell him you would love his bird dirck, dick! He has a right to knowwww!”

 

“Why don’t you just tell him for me then you can be all hey John Dave is a big fat fuckin feathery furry for your dick ok.”

 

“I’ll so tell him I will don’t dare me!”

 

“I fukin dare you furry brain!”

 

“I’m callin John I’m tellin him you said that to me too!!

 

“DO IT! Fukin DARE you!”

 

“I’M FUCKIN CALLIN THE FUCKIN NUMBER OH MY GOD JOHN HIIIIII!!!!”

 

You can hear a muffled voice in Jade’s phone from over where her head is. You feel like you should stop her for some reason but you’re not really up for moving since Jade just painted your toes.

 

“JOHN! John, Johnnnnn. Dave is such a bird furry for you but he wont stop teasing me for it make him stoppp!”

 

“Never gonna stop. Can’t stop this. Too much to stoop. Stop.”

 

“No John it’s only like…shitting fuck its that late??? Holy shit Dave! Dave its already tomorrow!”

 

“Oh my god I should make a mix with that Rudolph song ‘there’s always tomorrow’ in it oh my god I am a genius.”

 

“John, listen. If you were a birch, bird! If you were a bird, Dave would still love your bird dick. Right Dave?”

 

“I would love your bird dick forever John. Is he listening? John I would love your bird dick forever.”

 

“See he would totally love you for you even with your bird dick he would still have all the sex with you!!! Isn’t that so super sweet John? Dave wouldn’t let your bird dick get in the way of true loooovveee!”

 

There’s a weird feeling in your chest that you register as nervous and scared or something. Why would you be scared right now though you’re just talking to Jade about bird dicks that’s totally normal. Is John even listening? He’s probably missing out on super important bird dick things.

 

“Whaaaaat no John you don’t understand Dave would love you without a bird dick too! He would totally still have sex with you without a bird dick…actually I think its more like, he WANTS to have sex with your normal dick, but he WOULD have sex with bird dick thing…Yeah! Get it?”

 

“Jade, Jade you are messing it up it’s supposed to be special. Sound more special Jade.”

 

“Jeez fine! John, Dave wants this to be super special so you have to take this seriously because its actually really special ok? Like, think about it John. Dave would fuck you, with a BIRD dick. He’s sacrificing a LOT for you here John.”

 

“You suck at this gimme the phone Harley, gimme gimme gimme.”

 

“NO! I’m doin it cuz you’re a big pussy!”

 

“Give me the fukin phone, John? John tell the furry bitch to give me the fukin phone.”

 

“Don’t call me a furry bitch you cock suckin dick head!”

 

“OW! Holy FUCK don’t kick me I will piss on you while I proceed to fukin suck all the cocks! All of them.”

 

“I thought you’d only suck John’s bird cock!”

 

“I’ll suck John’s bird dick 100 times a day will that make you happy Harley.”

 

“That’s soOW OW OW HEY NO- MY PHONE! GIVE ME THE FUCKING PHONE DAVE!”

 

You successfully roll over, changing your positions as you flop over Jade’s stomach, taking the phone. Jade continues screeching things in your ear but she’s too piss drunk to coordinate well enough to get out.

 

“Yoooooooo John are you there cuz we are talking about so much important bird shit like did you even hear half of those things we were saying about bird dicks because Jesus fucking Christ it was important.” 

 

“Dave? Dave what is going on! Are you alright? Is Jade alright?”

 

“We’re just chillin. Jade wouldn’t give me the damn phone though so I had to fuckin wrestle her for it. I beat her because I’m awesome but that’s not important because did you know I would suck your bird dick 100 times a day just for you.”

 

“Dave, Jade kept talking about that I don’t get any of it are you guys really drunk? You sound really drunk!”

 

“Dude, we had like…some amount of alcohol its not important. John. John, John John Johnnnnn you’re name is so perfect. Just rolls off my tongue so fukin perfectly like imagine during sex how easy it would be to just say your name I could say it all the fuckin night John-

 

“Dave I think you should maybe stop talking now?! Oh my god how much did you drink!”

 

“Naw man, we are just getting started here. Like holy shit you could fuck me into the wall and I could just say your name all night dude, all the fukin night hell I would say it while I sucked your cock all 100 times-

 

“Dave!!! Oh my god.”

 

“Are you bluuusshhhiiin Johnny boy? Am I makin Mr. straight ass, oh shit you have such a great ass too. Where was I.”

 

“You were shutting up Dave! That is where you were!!”

 

“No shh. You’re so adorable when ya blush. Holy fuck I could kiss your face all the time and I would totally fucking make you blush all the time and then I’d just kiss you all over again oh my god John I bet I could get your dick to turn as red as your face oh my god matching colors why hasn’t anyone written a book on this stuff.”

 

“Dave stop! I don’t know how to respond to any of this, Rose is asleep like, right next to me!”

 

“No I’m not, not done yet. Jade messed it up. The bird dick thing. Like ok, so, its more than just a bird dick, like you could be a giant…foot. And I’d still love you so much John I would kiss your big foot…person thing everyday and I would learn to cook for you. Me and Jade made some pretty great cookies wow I cant even finish that sentence its such a lie the cookies are so terrible John never let us bake. Holy shit.”

 

“Dave…you cant just, say those things……”

 

“I can totally say thing I am saying things right now an-

 

“HA TAKE THAT BITCH!!!”

 

You are officially dead. Jade killed you. Holy shit she just punched your leg off. You will never walk again. Fucking bitch she took the phone too.

 

“Oh my gosh John I’m back now its all awesome now! Dave was being a huge butt and sitting on me with it! Ha! Take that Dave! Anyways-

 

“Jade you fucker give me the phone back holy shit what did you do to me-

 

“Dave is totally in love with you duh we get it but bird dicks John. We still need to get into that topic because Dave did NOT cover it properly alright?”

 

“Jade you are such a fucking piece of shit I’m going to die.”

 

“John?”

 

“Jade move your ass I need medical help.”

 

“John are you crying?”  


“What.”

 

“John noooo don’t cry why are you crying?”

 

“Is John crying who make John cry I will fucking kill them. John I will fucking kill them!”

 

“John no don’t- shit! Damnit John! Daaavveee he hung up what do we do?”

 

“Why was John crying was he getting attacked?”

 

“I don’t, I…wait is John getting attacked?”

 

“John’s getting attacked?!? Holy fuck Jade!”

 

“JOHN’S GETTING ATTACKED???!?!”

 

“JOHN HOLY SHIT!”

 

“JOOOHHHNNN!!!”

 

You both scramble to your feet, which proves to be the worst decision you have ever made. Between Jade punching your leg into the next universe and the various alcohol working at maximum levels, you fall hard, Jade tripping over you and landing in the safety of the couch.

You are not so lucky, and hit the uncarpeted floor like a brick, thanking everything ever you took the shades off a while ago. You feel ten times dizzier than usual, and promptly forget whatever you were doing. Did John says something? Was someone in trouble? You just don’t know.

The floor is really comfortable for some reason, and you can already hear Jade snoring from the couch. Well if she took your bed there’s no real reason to get up.

You just, close your eyes. It feels nice, like this really big worry is sliding off of you. Fuck that worry, whatever it was about.

You can feel sleep claw at you, how had you even been pushing it back before? Sleep is your friend. Sleep is kind. Sleep.

You can do that. You can sleep. You suck at being a friend and supportive and shit but you can totally sleep.

You register briefly you phone chiming way across the room, but it stops pretty shortly so you keep you eyes closed and let the exhaustion take over.

You fall into a sleep that is neither deep nor light, but heavy from drunkenness. There are no dreams to greet you, only the darkness behind your eyelids.

 

Across the room your phone lights up before fading once again.

 

\--tentacleTherapis [TT] began pestering turntechGodhead [TG] at 2:27AM--

TT: What did you do this time. Honestly am I never to get sleep these days and what in the name of all unholy things could you possibly have said to upset John this much?

TT: I know he was just talking to you I woke up to your lovely voice trying to escape John’s poor phone. I’ll figure out what the words were from John or you eventually.  

TT: Dave answer the phone I am not in the mood for your bullshit. I am tired, I am emotionally compromised, and I know all your deepest fears and I will use them against you.

TT: Dave for fucks sake. 

TT: What did you do?


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> fluff and tears and shit

You go ahead and decide that whatever is trying to wake you up needs to die the most painful death possible. You’re head is splitting into 5 different pieces and you can distinctly hear Jade groaning from somewhere nearby. You are no way in hell going to open your eyes with the obvious light coming in the room.

 

“One last chance Dave.”

 

Who the fucking hell is talking. This is a no talking zone. This is a no light zone. This is a nothing zone. Only sleep.

 

“I warned you. However, I admit that I WILL enjoy this.”

 

Holy

Mother

Fucking

Shit

Someone just pored water on you.

Someone just pored icy cold fucking water on your body and head and this is not fun. This is not ok. Someone is going to die. You are going to kill someone.

Opening your eyes was an incredibly bad decision. Your pain goes from splitting to nausea inducing. You limbs barely work, but you manage to turn over enough, still gasping from the shock of the water, as you grasp the garbage bin mercifully close.

Acid burns your throat as you heave, and you begin to register just how much like shit you feel. Actually shit feels way better than you. You feel like the shit of shit. The long lost shitted shit of the shittiest shit. And you leg hurts like a bitch. Why the fuck does your leg hurt?

 

“Oh good you’re responsive to the living world again.”

 

Of all the voices you could be greeted with, even if there were really only 3 likely to own said voices, you did not want this voice to be Rose Lalonde’s.

 

“What. The fuck. Rose are you fucking kidding me did you just pour water on my head. Did you actually. Just fucking poor icy fucking water, on me. Oh god-

 

You heave into the bin again, your skin feelings clammy and too hot while being far too cold for our liking. Your clothes stick to your skin from sweat, the light is making your eyes burn, you don’t know if you’ve ever had a headache this bad (well not since high school) and you just threw up in your only trashcan. Also, your leg fucking HURTS.

 

“I will be merciful enough to go close your horrible curtains, but expect nothing else from me.”

 

The sound of her shoes against the floor is like dynamite in your head. The woman knows how to torture, and you have made the mistake of letting her have to key to your prison cell. How the fuck is Jade still asleep through the god awful noise of those shoes?

You sneak a peak over at Jade, who is drooling all over your couch while still looking completely presentable, and not like the shit you probably appear to be.

There is a glorious darkness that falls over the room, and you decide not to hate Rose for a moment as the burning in your eyes subsides. You stomach no longer feels incredibly unstable, and you push the trash away enough for you to lower yourself to the cool surface of the floor. Your dignity has taken a pretty big blow this morning so you go ahead and curl into a ball without caring.

 

“Oh no, don’t even think about going back to sleep. I have iced water ready, and I don’t care how wet my feet get I will drown you if I must.”

 

You curl tighter into yourself, mumbling curses.

 

“God what did I do to deserve this.”

 

At that, Rose laughs. It’s a chilling laugh, short and bitter in the most clipped and harsh way possible.

Rose Lalonde is furious with you.

Holy shit you’re not just shit right now you are in the deepest possible shit.

But why is Rose pissed at you?

 

“How humorous. I was going to ask you the same thing, although I really only need a few missing details. Other than that, I have deemed that you deserve much, _much, worse._ ”

 

Wait what.

 

“What?”

 

You don’t look at her, not really wanting to deal with the death glare she’s definitely giving you. You do make an attempt at sitting up, which you manage and deem an amazing success.

 

“How much do you remember from last night? Because from what I know, you and Jade seem to have gotten extremely intoxicated.”

 

“uh…yeah That fits the situation pretty damn well. What, did I send you weird porn and freak you out or something? Pretty sure Jade and I got into something about furries at one point…I didn’t send you furry porn did I?”

 

God you hope you didn’t stoop that low in your fucked up drunken head.

 

“Oh no, you didn’t send anything to me. You didn’t even attempt to contact me last night, rather someone else.”

 

Jesus Christ for once can’t she just do this the easy way and _tell you why she’s pissed._

 

“Ok, whatever I did, sorry. I am fucking sorry. Now what did I do.”

 

“What do you remember doing exactly?”

 

“Oh for fucks sake I got shit faced with Jade. We baked shit while we were drunk at some point, we ended up talking a bunch, we fell asleep. I think Jade prank called someone, I don’t know.”

 

“You don’t remember anything else? Nothing?”

 

“The word ‘bird dick’ sounds familiar but what the hell do you want form me I’m lucky I can even remember my name right now.”

 

You go ahead and look up at her. To your shock (not that you how it or you wouldn’t show it fuck where are your shades) Rose doesn’t look like she’s trying to kill you with her eyes. Year her stance is angry and her jaw is set tight, but her eyes are tired and strained. She’s not just angry, she’s really upset. She is unhappy, in a sad and disappointed way. And that scares you more than her anger.

 

What DID you do?

 

“Dave, Jade didn’t prank call anyone last night. She called John.”

 

Oh.

OH.

_Oh no._

 

“You and Jade both spoke to John, and both of your were extremely drunk, and unfortunately driven by a good deal of various emotions which probably drove you to say what you did.”

_Oh fuck no._

_Oh fucking shit fuck._

“Is any of this coming back to you Dave?”

 

“Uh.”

 

_Say no._

“Maybe.”

 

_Run._

“I mean it’s not crystal clear,”

 

_Run now you stupid fuck._

“Jade was havin a good time,”

 

_Change your name and move to Iceland._

“We…called John together.”

 

“Oh good so you remember some small part of your enormous fuck up from the previous night. Go on.”

 

“Lalonde, it was like 2am or 4 or some shit, we were tired and dru-

 

“I DON’T _WANT_ YOUR EXCUSES DAVE STRIDER. I WANT-no I cant do this. I will not do this Dave. I will not waste my energy yelling at you like a mother and her insolate _child_ when your best friend is going through what he is, and you, YOU have the audacity to make it harder on him. You fucked up Dave, I know you remember, now cut the bullshit and help me deal with this because I cannot deal with this on my own.”

 

You’re so scared you’re not sure what to do. You can handle Rose when she’s angry, you tend to bring that out in her without fail, but you don’t know what to do when she’s this vulnerable and when you’re the one making her miserable.

 

“I can’t do this on my own Dave. I wont be able to watch you every minute when John needs us all. I need my own time too, I need-

 

She chokes on her words, throat constricting. You can see her eyes shine in the worst kind of way.

 

“I am dealing with all this in my own way, I am trying. But its still so had to do this alone. I need your help, because I can’t do this alone. I cant.”

 

She starts wiping at her eyes.

 

“I don’t know wh-what exactly made John so upset b-but I need to-

 

She stops and takes a few breaths

 

“I need to just get myself together. If I ask you to go talk to John, can I trust you to be careful and not screw this up more than you have?”

 

You don’t dare argue, and you certainly don’t try to play this down as anything less than what it is. You move past Rose, only hesitating long enough for you to gently pass on the words “I’ll fix this, go get some sleep.” Before you pull away, too cowardly to stay by her side and let her hold you. You watch her hug herself as you walk past. You grab a dry shirt and pain killers, they grab your keys and place your shades on your eyes, letting the world dim.

In the end, you leave her standing there, crying silently while Jade continues to sleep on your bed/couch. You wonder if this is how its going to be; you fucking up and hurting people and then turning right around and hurting other people. A circle on fucking up that continuously moves so you always face someone new as you continue to ruin everything.

 

When John isn’t here anymore, who’s gonna hold us together and stop me from doing things like this?

Who’s gonna stop me from hurting the other people I love, my best friends, my family?

 

You’re outside the apartment, and your shades cant stop the sun from making your eyes water. On the other side of the door you can hear Rose moving, just barely, probably to the couch with Jade. She wont cry loud enough for anyone to hear, she’ll never do that unless she really looses all control. You can smell stale whisky on your clothes and you don’t have to look to know that everything is crumpled and extremely dirty, you wonder if you picked up a dirty shirt by accident. You’re hair is still wet from the wake up call. You’re not even wearing shoes.

You consider going back in, helping Rose in the way she clearly needs, but instead you just stand there a little, listening for any sign of life inside your designated home. You hear silence, and its unnerving and you really do want to go back inside and find Rose, make sure she’s really there, make sure she’s going to be ok, make sure you’re going to be ok. Maybe you only want to do that because you don’t know if you are going to be ok after talking to John. How could you do what you remember doing? How can you fix something like this?

Rose was right, after all. You deserve much worse than anything she did to you.

You can barely walk with the pounding in your head and churning in your stomach. The thought of what you have to face not makes you want to crumble to the ground and burry yourself. The entire world around you is bright and vivid with the light of a warm day. Its beautiful, but it doesn’t match the events transpiring. You want heavy rain, or dry thunder, even hail. You don’t want it to be pretty outside where there are birds chirping and kids laughing.

 

You briefly wonder if you could play this whole thing off as a joke on John. If you could just show up at his door laughing “oh haha I got you man” and if he would buy it.

But Rose was right. You had hid this from John for years, and it was only last night that you had so willingly shared that precious secret because you knew you wanted him to know. You wanted to tell him the truth and finally face his answer, good or bad.

You just wish that it hadn’t been this way. Why did you have to do it like this, where you jump right in at the worst possible time?

Why did you have to get in your own way and fuck up any chances you ever had with the person you love so much?

You have to bend over and take a few deep breaths. You’re only a sidewalk and a turn away from John’s place, and you cant breathe right. Your head is spinning and your chest feels too tights, heart going too fast. You’re trying to slow down your breathing but you cant. The air is chilly and there’s a strong wind.

So being the genius you are, you start running. If you cant slow it down, why not match its pace. You sprint, on the verge on flash stepping, around that corner and past John’s apartment building. Then you turn right around and run past it again. You circle it. You circle it again. You run past it then run past it over and over again until you think you’re going to pass out and the pain in your head is causing tears to run down your cheeks. You gasp for breath, begging for it to return to you but it won’t come. You fall to your knees and suck in as much air as you can, clearing black spots dancing in your vision. You shudder violently, and curl into yourself in the middle of the sidewalk.

No one passes you. There’s not many people around, and if they are close you don’t hear them. You’re a grown ass man hiding his face right in the middle of the god damn sidewalk on a sunny day.

You would be throwing up right now if your stomach wasn’t so empty. You’d probably be crying a lot if you weren’t so tired and probably dehydrated.

You’re not sure how long you just crouch there, kneeling with your eyes closed, panting heavily and sweating.

 

“Jesus Christ Dave what the hell are you doing?”

 

You go ahead and give yourself whiplash by flinging you head up too fast to see John looking down at you. You stare at him with wide eyes, hidden behind glasses that might as well not be there. He could find your eyes behind them from day one, and he could read you like a book from day two. You cannot and never could hide from John.

So you tell the truth.

 

“I don’t know.”

 

“I just saw you sprint around the building like ten times and then curl into a ball in the middle of the sidewalk. You look like you’re going to barf too.”

 

“yeah.”

 

“You ok?”

 

“Hell no.”

 

“You wanna come up and get some water? Or maybe ginger ale?”

 

“Hell yes. Please. If I can. Can I come up? Like is that ok?”

 

“I literally just asked you if you wanted to come up you dumbass.”

 

You nod because you don’t know if anything you can say will make you appear any less dumb. He starts walking back to the entrance and you just follow him. You slouch terribly, resisting the urge to clutch you head or to grab his shoulder and make him look at you.

You’re scared because he’s not doing anything. You want to know how bad you made things but he’s not showing you. He’s hiding it, and when he hides things its harder for you to read him than a stranger trying to read you. The boy that wore his heart on his sleeve and showed every emotion as clear as possible and never tried to hide anything could suddenly become a blank slate, and encrypted code, and as open as a brick wall.

When you reach his door you jump at his every movement. You wait for him to turn sharply and start yelling. To hit you, to cry, anything. But he just opens the door and goes right to the cabinet with simple medication and band aids. He gets you the ginger ale. He motions for you to sit and you do, and when he gives you both items you take them.

You sit in silence for 3 solid minutes. You watch the analog clock tick at every second on his wall. He never moves. He doesn’t look at you. He stands behind the counter with his arms crossed, looking away into nothing.

 

“John?”

 

“What.”

 

Its sharp, and its so unlike his soft, warm voice you flinch. You know this is the beginning of something you never wanted to happen. Soon he will say words that finalize your own heartbreak, and it will be over. He will be bitter and angry at you for a while, then open back up enough for you to earn his trust through friendship, and if you dare try more than friendship, you will be left behind.

Your love will always be unacceptable.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

He doesn’t even respond. He doesn’t look at you, and you look at nothing but him. His tan skin looks too pale, his eyes less bright and more gray. His arms are crossed tightly, and he is holding himself like Rose was when you left her.   


“Are you really sorry you said those things to me last night, or do you just feel guilty?”

 

It’s not a question you were expecting, but you still answer honestly.

 

“I’m sorry I said those things like I did; when I was piss drunk and being a stupid shit. But no, I don’t really think I’m sorry that I got the meaning across last night.”

 

“So you’re not even here to apologize.”

 

“I am here to apologize. But I’m also here to tell you the truth. I regret telling you those things when I was drunk, when I was tired, when I was sad, when I wasn’t here saying it to your face.”

 

“And what do you mean exactly by ‘those things’ Dave?”

 

He finally looks at you. His eyes are so dark they don’t even look navy, just black. They sink into you and claw your chest. They radiate a hatred you never thought would be directed at you, and it hurts more than you ever thought possible.

 

“I really don’t think I need to sa-

 

“I really think you do. Tell me everything.”

 

“Everything. Right now, you want me to spill everything. Like right-

 

“Right now Dave.”

 

You keep you eyes locked on him, and you know he wants the answer. He wants to humiliate you. Force you to carry out your own death sentence as you repeat everything and more, giving in and giving him what he wants.

And you will do it, because you have always done everything for John Egbert, and you will continue to do everything for him, no matter how much he so obviously despises you.

You will not only dig your own grave for him, but you will lie down and pull the dirt on yourself.

So you do that.

“I’ve been in love with you for a while. Rose knew, I don’t know when Jade found out. I kept it a secret cuz I was scared you would think I was a perverted creep and not want me around anymore. I was afraid I wouldn’t get to hang out with you and goof off like we always do. I was afraid I’d loose my best friend, so I never told you.”

 

You take a deep breath.

 

“When you told me you were really sick, I kinda began thinking that all this time I’d never been honest with you, and that you deserve the truth. I also thought it was sorta a ‘now or never’ kind of deal, since I always hoped maybe there was a chance you might like me back. I know its stupid, I get that believe me, but I still think you should know that I have loved you for so long, and I will still love you for a hell of a long time. And it really fucking hurts that I fucked up like this, because I wanted to tell you the right way and I-

 

_Don’t do this._

_Don’t start crying in front of him._

_Don’t do this now._

 

“I’m so fucking sorry John. God I’m so sorry-

 

“You’re a fucking idiot.”

 

“I know, I know please just don’t-don’t make me leave you now-

 

“You are literally the most stupid piece of shit-

 

“I fucking know, I deserve to get my dick ripped off by a bear and then bees in my ass Jesus Christ I know I am a piece of utter shit-

 

“How could you do this to me?”

 

“Because I’m a selfish piece of shit I’m sorry, I’m so sorry John-

 

You’re crying, voice trembling because his hate sting and burns and will leave a thousand invisible scars. You can hear his voice tremble but you’re not looking at him anymore, you don’t want to see him cry because you hurt him.

 

“You had all this time to tell me, and you tell me now?”

 

His voice is so fragile, on the verge of breaking. It is quiet, and small, but echoes in you mind and fills you.

 

“I didn’t want-

 

“I am _dying._ My life is numbered and set, and you tell me you love me, you _choose_ to tell me when we only have _4 months_ left together?”

 

His words crack and you know he’s crying now. You made him cry, and that makes you want to jump out his window.

 

“If you never knew, I thought I could stay with you.”

 

“If you had told me we could have stayed together! If you had just _fucking told me_ we could have _been together_!”

 

You look up at him because you don’t understand what he means. You and John had always been together. It hadn’t been anything else. He’s so much closer than he was before, tears trickling down his cheeks, and he reached out and grabs your glasses. The light stings your eyes but you deserve so much worse, so much worse by far, and you don’t care. You look right back at him with your watery red eyes, your disgusting inhuman eyes that no one ever wanted to look at. Eyes that John shouldn’t look at with his perfect ones. You don’t deserve to see how beautiful he is.

 

“You really are a stupid shit Dave.”

 

“I know-

 

“No, you don’t! YOU DON’T, GET IT!!”

 

He grabs and tosses your shades on the counter, and you pray they don’t break. You need them. You need to hold onto something he gave you when he makes you leave. He covers his face, and he sobs once.

 

“I’ll do anything, I’ll keep a five foot distance at all times, I’ll never make sexual comments or jokes, I’ll only speak when fucking spoken to if I gotta, just tell me what to do so I can stay as your friend.”

 

“Shut up!”

 

“I can’t go without something, I cant. I thought I could but I cant just leave-

 

“Shut up!! Shut the fuck up!!!”

 

“I cant, I need something, anything, I cant, I cant just go please, please don’t-

 

He grabs you by your shirt and pulls. He’s strong enough that he lifts you easily, even stretching your shirt a bit, the seams splitting and popping. You are on your feet and he’s right there holding you, and his face is angry and so, so sad.

Your heart would break if I hadn’t already done so repeatedly.

 

And then he kisses you.

 

You react by closing your eyes because he forces his lips on yours hard. He presses down on you in a wave of gentle force, and you don’t know anything anymore. But John has always been kind, always selfless, and maybe he’s giving you this kiss as your last something. You don’t want to question it, you want to accept it but you cant because he is hurting you like this. He is giving you what you wanted and ripping it away from you too fast, and you don’t think you can do it.

 

So instead of falling into him like you imagined, instead of melting and moving your lips against his, instead of kissing him until you need air to continue standing and not pass out, you pull away.

But he doesn’t let you. Your lips are no longer connected but he holds you. His arms is wrapped around your back, tangled in the folds of your shirt, while the other latches onto your white hair.

 

“If you think this means you can just leave, you’ve underestimated out entire friendship.”

 

He kisses you again, fast and so much more passionately. This time you don’t pull away, but you don’t react even though you want to. If you kiss him back you don’t know what will happen, and more has happened in the last five seconds than you could have ever prepared for.

 

“I will always love you Dave. Through all your stupid as fuck obliviousness I never thought you would question that.”

 

He kisses you again, this time longer and sweeter. He pours sugar into you through his lips and it turns to salt when he pulls back again.

 

“And through all my attempts to get your attention, to know that it apparently _worked_? To know that you liked me back but fucking _hid it_? To know that the very _moment_ , the second I try to get over you, you crawl back in me head and take over again because you _did_ like me back?”

 

What?

 

“Wha-

 

Another kiss to steal your words, and its angry again, like the first. It pushes against you skin, not with the idea to take, but to imprint.

 

“I fell for you in high school, I loved you and I thought maybe you could love me back, and then it seemed like you were fucking everyone within a mile radius and I knew you couldn’t like me back. Why would you like some normal, pathetic, dorky kid like me when everyone wanted you?”

 

How could he think that? How could he think he was anything close to normal? How could he think he was so below you when you didn’t even deserve to look in his eyes? How is he saying these things that are such twisted lies?

 

“You had a girlfriend.”

 

“Of course I had a girlfriend, it was called copping. It was trying to get over you romantically so I could stay as your friend!”

 

“You had sex with her, you lost your virginity, you had other girlfriends.”

 

“And you had countless fuck buddies! What was I compared to all the girls and guys tossing themselves at you? What could I hope for when you distanced yourself from relationships and so easily spent nights loving a stranger?”

 

“I never loved them. I had sex with them, and it was called my way of copping. You had girlfriends, I had sex. I found girls with short dark hair and guys with tan skin and glasses. I looked for you where I couldn’t have you.”

 

“But you _could’ve_ had me.”

 

“I don’t believe you.”

 

“I wanted to be with you.”

 

“I can’t believe that.”

 

He leans into you, his forehead touching yours and you didn’t realize how hard you were crying. He cries too, but silently, patiently. He doesn’t want to end the argument.

 

“Why cant you believe that I wanted to be closer to the person I spent every moment with? The person I held longer than anyone else and texted at 3am with nothing to say? Why are you placing yourself so low when all you’ve ever been to me was too far above?”

 

“How can you love me back? How is anything you’re saying possible when you never showed the slightest fucking interest-

 

When he kisses you this time you tense until it feels like your skin is suffocating your muscles. You will not give in. you are not part of a true moment right now. This is a dream, or a lie constructed to make you feel better. This isn’t real.

 

“Kiss me back.”

 

“I cant.”

 

“You still don’t believe me?”

 

“Its impossible.”

 

“Kiss back you dumbass.”

 

He kisses your cheekbone, and moves down to your lips with feather dusting brushes of skin on skin. He kisses you gently, and it’s so softly you don’t even feel the pressure, just the texture. His mouth doesn’t push into yours this time, and it’s not even a full kiss. He is waiting for you. His eyes are lidded and they are starring right into you, and you are scared.

He is breaking your walls, and you can’t repair them fast enough to really fix the damage he continuously causes them. The walls are old, and you thought they were sturdy but they stood on unbalanced rocks, and now they stand like a sand castle before a great wave.

 

“Kiss me.”

 

You feel yourself moving forward the tiny distance it takes and you split in 2 and then 4 and then 100 pieces because you give up. You kiss him back and press into him like he did to you. Your explore every curl in his hair with your fingers and hold him so you know he wont just disappear like it feels like he will. You tilt your head, you move your lips, you nibble and pull and suck and taste. You pull him so close you don’t know where you start and he ends. You feel him move with you, breathe with you, be with you. You let yourself fall, but he continuously catches you.

He tastes like tears, and you don’t know if he’s still crying, if you’re still crying, you don’t know anything. Because what if he’s telling the truth? What if he loves you back like he says he does, and he’s not just softening the blow for you?

When he pulls away this time you follow, trying to cling to him, so reluctant to separate. He pushes and pulls, giving you smaller, softer kisses until he manages to get far enough away from you that you have to open your eyes.

 

“You never even mentioned any interest in guys.”

 

You don’t know why you said it. You still have an overwhelming feeling of fear that everything he said will wash away and leave you bare in the light of truth. Because he can’t love you, you don’t deserve his love.

 

“I never really looked at other guys, I just always considered you. I was scared because of that.”

 

“You were scared you might be bisexual like me?”

 

“I was scared because I was in love with you and didn’t know how to handle it.”

 

“You could have talked to Rose. Even Jade would have probably told you how fucking whipped I was for you.”

 

“Jade would have told you, tried to play match maker and I was so scared you’d find out and push me away-

 

“I’d fucking never do that Jesus Christ-

 

“Rose would have made me face my problems before I was ready-

 

“None of us are ever fuckin ready to face our problems-

 

“If you couldn’t do it what makes you think I could?”

 

“Because you’re the strong one. You’re smarter and a hell of a lot nicer-

 

“I’m not strong. I’ve never been strong-

 

“That’s bullshit.”

 

You grab him and pull him in and he lets himself be guided back into you. He has to tilt his head down to meet yours, just a little, and you want to pull him closer, you want to suffocate in him but he pulls away again and you let him.

 

“We could’ve had years together.”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

“I’m the one apologizing shut up.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“No don’t start that shit.”

 

“…Sorry.”

 

“Dave!”

 

You can’t help it, you laugh. You lean forward and laugh into his collarbone and shake with the release of so much panic and pain. He giggles like a fucking kid and you love him so much. You adore him more than its fair, and you are finally so close to him, you have experienced being his for moments alone. You instinctively clutch him harder, hold him tighter. You continue to laugh with him but you are tense as you hold him, and he can feel it.

 

“I love you. I’m in love with you. I love your smug ass smirk and your weird white hair and your funny accent when you don’t think anyone’s listening.”

 

You grip him tighter and swallow thickly. You use his neck to hide, finding refuge in the curves of his body.

 

“I love your eyes, I love when you show me how you feel. I love your voice when you’re being honest, I love how gentle you can be. I love it when you blush, and how red you get.”

 

“fuck you.”

 

He giggled at you and you smile into his skin. His fingers play in your hair, and it gives you chills that creep down your neck and prickle your skin in the best kind of way.

 

“I’m dying Dave.”

 

You realize that he had stopped laughing but his body shook silently into yours. He was crying again and somehow it’s your own fault. He says the words you hate and fear and you feel paralyzed. So you just throw words in the air and hope they fall down in the right place like his did.

 

“I love you. I’ve loved you for fucking ever. You’re such a goddamn nerd and your movies suck ass and when you laugh its like a bunch of angels came down to go sit in my ears. You’re hairs so fucking soft it like I’m petting a chinchilla and when you smile I feel like I cant breathe because its so gorgeous. You have those fucking big puppy eyes that kill me because you could ask me to slice off my head and all you would have to do is look at me and I’d fuckin do it. You’re also really sexy, did ya know that? You have all this hard muscle and the best ass and I swoon every time you pick something up, like damn jesus fuck give a guy some warning before you before you bend over John you’re gonna kill me one of these day.”

 

He chuckles but it’s broken and watery. You are dying inside because why did he have to be the one to loose everything while simultaneously taking everything away from you.

You finally have him in your arms like you imagined, you’re pushed up against him, trying to crawl into his skin and attach yourself to his fucking soul.

 

“I’m yours. I will always be here for you. I will fucking hold your hand every damn second I can. If you let me I will kiss you every moment you don’t need to breathe or eat or something vital.”

 

“Those sound like wedding vows you dork. God you’re so mushy I’m gonna barf.”

 

“I’ll still love you if you barf on me. Promise.”

 

“that’s gross and sweet at the same time oh my god why do I love you so much.”

 

“You must be pretty desperate.”

 

“It comes with having a death sentence.”

 

“John.”

 

“Dave.”

 

You move yourself out of the safety of his neck so you can look at him. All his colors are so vivid without the tiny of our glasses, and it feels like you’re going blind in a good way. He smiles but there’s still tear stains on his face that are too fresh, and his eyes are too sad, too accepting and afraid.

 

“I know we haven’t talked about it, but there could be treatments, I’ll pay-

 

“I don’t want any treatments.”

 

Now you do pull away. You continue to grasp his arms, keeping him close while you look him straight in the eyes.

 

“I may not know jack shit about most things John, but I’m pretty sure there’s this thing called chemotherapy that does cancer fighting shit-

 

“I’m not at the first stages of cancer. Chemotherapy probably wouldn’t give me more time, and if it even did any extra time I have will be on the verge of death. I’ve had time to think about this, and I don’t want any of the time I have left to be spent as a shrunken husk of myself while I die in pain with tubes in my chest and arms.”

 

“More time is more time-

 

“I’ll never be able to leave a hospital bed.”

 

“I’ll sleep right next to you every night and wake up with you every day.”

 

“They’ll make you leave me. I’ll be alone. I’ll be in pain. I cant do it.”

 

“We could have more time together.”

 

You’re voice cracked a while ago. You are past embarrassment over crying.

 

“But we wont. If anything it will be less time. I talked to my doctors about it, I told my therapist, I’ve decided Dave.”

 

You fall against his chest and sob. It’s like the first night when he told you all. Had that only been a few nights ago or had it been years? Had it been seconds? Time was out of order and it made you feel powerless. You relied on time, on measurements of the sun setting and rising, but now it’s skipping loops and running wild, passing too fast and too slow at the wrong moments. You sob into his shirt and hold him as tightly as you can, wishing he would hold you tighter, crush your bones, make you feel physical pain instead of what you feel now.

 

“I’m never gonna leave you alone. You don’t even get a choice now you little shit I’m going to love you so hard you wont know what hit you.”

 

Your voice is scratchy and harsh to your own ears. But his is soft and quiet, like the flutter of bird’s wings against your skin.

 

“Promise?”

 

“Holy fuck I promise. I swear on fucking everything I promise John.”

 

“I love you I love you so much-

 

“I love you more than anything fucking fuck I love you John-

 

You’re crying harder but you still let him pull you up into a hard kiss again. It’s a desperate kiss, trying to convey words that were never spoken for full years and it makes your head spin. You kiss him back with silent shouts of adoration, pouring your love into his body, bruising your lips until your open to him, and let him kiss you with the kind of desperation that is so new to you and so strong your knees go weak. He takes control of you and its so overwhelming and perfect. You want to die like this, you want to drown in desperate kisses and nails digging into you to keep you as a whole together instead of two separate and broken halves.

You hate how you could always find so many words for so many useless things but when it matters so much you cant say anything right. You babble and mumble into him words full of everything but lacking in understanding and jumbled together in nonsensical nothingness. You beg for love you have already received but cant comprehend you have, and you try in desperation to show more, prove more, get him to understand what you don’t know he already does. You want him to know your love, and he probably does but you don’t know for sure because it’s been so long and at the same time never since you said any of it out loud. Your silence breaks more and more every second and you are being drained and emptied and filled over and over.

You’re name is Dave Strider, and though it was almost 10 years ago that you fell in love with John Egbert, it only today that you can finally give him your heart.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV

You love Dave.

You knew you loved him back in college, and though the idea was subconscious in your mind during high school, it resided in your head under the tittle of “crush”. In middle school it had not yet formed in your young teenage brain the idea that you could possibly be attracted to a boy, much less your best friend you had never met in person. You took the tightness in your chest and the bubbles of joy that came with his logged in name all as symbol of strong friendship, and they were, but they also were not alone in their meaning.

You can remember your blue text running across the screen to meet his everyday, the words sometimes meaningless, but always resonating in you as important. You remember when his older brother died and he came to you, small and fragile behind a glass wall he though was made of steel. You had been so careful with him, so delicate in every action and word spoken, watching as he healed little by little. You remember how much Jade helped you like she always did when you couldn’t talk to him. Jade, your wonderful sister, and why wouldn’t she be your sister? There was no other role she fit into better than as your family. And if Jade was your sister, than Rose was Dave’s. Not just in appearance, but in mannerisms. You will never understand their desire to hide behind facades and rituals of disguise so deeply performed the truth was buried deep, deep down. You can’t remember being happier than when Dave showed you himself, even if the moments were rare and painful for him. He was always so perfect to you, for all his flaws, which you had twice as many, he only had gifts to bring the world with his talents and charms.

You remember falling in love with him, secluding yourself because no, you could never be with someone so keen on staying out of relationships and so clearly not interested in you in that way. You took every night he stayed out, handled it, knowing he was with another nameless lover, and you suppressed your envy and loneliness. In college you would not allow him to bring home “guests”, you made it clear. He never knew your reasons. When it became clear he had been having more male lovers than female you began to hope, began to wonder about possibilities, but they were always crushed as he moved on to the next warm body.

You dated. You developed feelings to a few girls that moved above platonic, but always under love. They never reached the level you wanted, but you did care for them and became close. They gave you a taste for what being with someone was like, but only the idea since it was so far away from what the real experience could be like.

And then your father died and you cut yourself off from the world outside your three friends because it soon became painfully obvious none of it mattered to you.

The world outside was like an illusion, colors faded and blurred while only Dave, Jade and Rose were crisp and beautiful in their clear existence. Anything outside of them was just a mellow dream you couldn’t wake from, but when they were in it you felt grounded to the path you were walking, always sure that it was safe to breathe.

It took the death of your father for you to realize your dependency on them, and how deep your adoration was for each of them was. It gave you the courage to pursue Dave, but your efforts were too small, too vague, and you always stopped yourself too soon. You tried again to give up on loving him romantically, and for a long time, you were satisfied with loving him platonically. You moved on in a miniscule way, but you still moved on.

And then you got sick. You were in pain and felt weak and strange and the doctors told you how sick you really were.

You wanted to tell them right away but you found the thought filthy. Why burden them with the ending of your life? Why change anything?

But as days passed and you allowed yourself to grieve for your own existence you felt starved. You needed their support because alone you were miserable, and by hiding the truth you were pushing them away. By pushing them away, you were hiding the only clarity your life had, and you couldn’t do it.

You told them. They cried. You grieved together. You began the road to acceptance, and thought to yourself that even though you were dying, it wasn’t really all that bad.

But then Jade called, drunk and rambling. Her words were frightening and when Dave’s voice came from the receiver you panicked. What he was saying was too much to take, to honest because it was him, too real and too unfair for you to accept.

You were angry at him for taking away years of a possible life together, and you wept bitterly because you finally found something that made death seem so unfair.

You had wished he had never said anything, while at the same time bursting with the joy that after so long you had a real and very likely chance.

Dave, with his long neck and pale skin covered with freckles, with his corn silk hair and little smiles, with his crooked nose and sharp cheekbones, with his rough hands and skinny legs. Dave, with his lean build and red eyes that looked into you without judgment and shined like supernovas. Dave, with his long rants and short answers, his kindness and uncertainty, his fragility and strength.

You loved him.

And he said he loved you back, but with a whole new meaning to you.

He had been so unwilling to kiss you back and it had broken your heart. Had you been wrong to force your lips to his like that, had it disgusted him but he was too worried about you to show it? But your future death gave you courage to continue, and with determination you kept going, until you watched him crumble and felt him kiss you back for the first time.

Year of wanting without really expecting and it was amazing. It was desperate, and it was sad, but it couldn’t have been anything else by that point, and so it was perfect.

And the cruelty of the situation made you want to laugh and cry simultaneously, because you had gotten what you wanted, but now something else claimed you and held you in a grip far too tight to escape. Where you had wanted to be Dave’s and only Dave’s, you were owned by death and could only be Dave’s second.

Everything was falling into place in the wrong ways, and you couldn’t change any of it. It frustrated you to tears, and drowned you in all the “what ifs”. It hurt more than when you first found out you were going to die, because even though you were loosing people you loved before, now you’ll be loosing your love.

 

You’re tempted to take Dave to bed, you really are, but you cant. You know you’re not ready despite all the hormones going crazy. You have an entirely new relationship to discover and develop with someone you’ve know practically your whole life, and you want everything to WORK. You can count on one hand how many people you’ve slept with, and only get to two hands when it comes to the number of times you’ve actually HAD sex. Dave has all the experience, and more specifically he has all the experience when it comes to having sex with another guy.

You’ve prided yourself in being a selfless lover, making sure their pleasure came first, and sometimes only theirs. Part of it was the underlying guilt, knowing you didn’t love them and didn’t expect a future with them, because the fact that you could give them a good time in bed made you feel better. You had no idea how you were at sex, and it made you nervous. Compared to Dave, who had grown up knowing the ins and outs of not only straight sex but probably a disturbing amount on gay sex and then went on to have a ridiculous amount of one night stands, with the added knowledge gathered that his sex companions had been reluctant to go and new ones had thrown themselves at him, you might as well be a fucking virgin. Literally.

You also don’t want to rush things. Even though most of your relationship will certainly feel rushed, not by your choice of course, you want to experience all the firsts with Dave. You want to go out on a date, hold hands, share a milkshake, take shitty selfies, all the stupid couple things Dave would bitch about out loud but enjoy secretly. Because sex was just a desire, it was being with Dave as his boyfriend that was the special part.

 

But fuck if he wasn’t a great kisser. And you’re both sporting semi hard dicks, which are NOT going away if you keep accidentally (or sometimes on purpose) rub against each other while heatedly making out.

You’re also aware that though both of you are no longer crying, the tear stains are evident and a good reminder of the reality of the situation.

You have a mission to accomplish before jumping right into embarrassing yourself through lack of experience.

You will woo Dave Strider. You will date him, and make every moment count, because you have to.

 You pull away, slowly with smaller kisses, trying to tell him you want to detach. He’s stubborn as usual, and when your mouth leaves his he just follows it back. It makes you grin, knowing he’s reluctant to leave you just like you are. He must feel your smile because he grins a little too. The kiss turns sweet because you’re both just smiling like idiots, and you can feel the desperate heat die down into a comfortable warmth. When you do manage to pull away you open your eyes and watch him blink, revealing his open face. When he looks at you with flushed cheeks and a small smile you feel your heart do flips and butterflies tickle your stomach. His eyes, probably like yours, are red rimmed from all the crying, but neither of you want to start speaking of the heavier things for the time being. You already feel exhausted from the huge range of emotions. It lets you know exactly what you want to do, so you pull away completely, watching Dave’s face fall, then turn questioning as you begin pulling him.

You flop back on the couch and he falls messily on top of you, his noise of exclamation muffled in your chest. You laugh at his look of indignation and kiss his forehead, and continue to laugh as you watch him blush. His eyes reveal so much of him, his surprise, his annoyance, how quickly it turns to being flustered, and then adoration mixed with embarrassment.

 

“So you’re basically not allowed to leave because its totally illegal so we’re gonna cuddle, and we have to keep it PG because we haven’t gone on an official date yet and those are the rules.”

 

You watch him flush again and look away.

 

“What kind of lady do you take me for Egbert? I aint gonna let you soil my untarnished-

 

“Holy shit you are the opposite of untarnished shut up.”

 

You chuckle as he turns bright red and promptly shuts up. He mumbles things into your chest, hiding himself from you, and you cant let him do that.

 

“Hmm?”

 

“It's not like I ain't clean or anything…”

 

“Huh?”

 

He still won’t look at you, and he looks anywhere but at you, even when you carefully lift his chin.

 

“…I’ve gotten tested. I know I’m clean and everything, always been safe ya know? You don’t have to worry about that shit, I swear.”

 

Oh.

Wait just how many people has he has sex with? No, it doesn’t matter. It was his choice, he wasn’t yours, you weren’t his. You had girlfriends, Dave had sex. Lots of sex. With strangers. But if he says he was tested and he’s clean you trust him!

 

“Dude, I didn’t mean to call you some kind of sleeze or whatever, I don’t mind that you’ve been around the block a few times! It’s like you said before, it was your way of coping because you didn’t want to date, right?”

 

“Yeah. Yeah I just, I never would have done it if I had thought I could’ve been with you, ya know? I didn’t mean to hurt you or-

 

“We’ve done enough hurting. The point is, it doesn’t matter. We’re together now and your days of dick exploration are over, just as I will have to leave many broken hearts behind me.”

 

He laughs his breathless quiet laugh, arranging his arms around your body in a more comfortable way. He’s heavy, but not so much that if feels like he’s crushing you. More like a heavy blanket, covering your body and providing warmth.

 

“You know this one time I was at a sophomore party, and pretty hammered and I just snagged one of the girls grinding up on me, and believe me Egbert there were many to choose from, and anyways we found some room, got down to business, next thing I know she’s slammin the door behind her and I got a nice handprint on my face.”

 

“What the fuck did you do? Also I don’t want to know about your random drunk sex!”

 

“Ah, patients young one-no shut up I’m getting to it. Apparently I had pissed her off cuz she didn’t like being called John during sex.”

 

“…you were saying-

 

“Your name.”

 

“…during drunk sex with some girl?”

 

“Yup.”

 

“Dude. That’s a pretty shitty thing to do to someone.”

 

“What? I thought you’d be kinda, I don’t know, thrilled that I was thinkin of you?”

 

You blush even more than him. Now you wish you had a place to hide.

 

“Well, ok yeah I mean, yay? It’s just kinda weird Dave!”

 

“It’s not that weird to fantasize about someone else when you’re doin it. It’s just like jackin off to your own little fantasy.”

 

“Masturbating and thinking of someone is totally different from having sex with someone and thinking of a different person!”

 

“Is it John? Is it really? Think about it.”

 

“Oh my god I am not having this conversation how did we even get to this topic.”

 

“Once I found this kind of porn-

 

“Nope! Nope not going there thanks! Topic changing time! Ok!”

 

“I love you.”

 

You’re completely thrown off by the sincerity of his voice, the change from light to heavy as he pulls himself up to kiss your forehead. It’s so typically of Dave to surprise you in little ways like that, even with all his routine and predictability. He will always manage to catch you off guard.

 

“I’m just shit at saying it. That’s how the topic started.”

 

He goes back to his hiding place in your chest and you let him. He seems done with words, now that he’s found acceptable ones. You let him hide as you weave your fingers in his hair, playing with each strand, letting it slip through your fingers like water, light catching the subtle highlights of the already impossibly light hair. It reminds you of white sand. You smile at the idea of Dave on a beach, with all his paleness covered in white sand save for his black aviators. You almost laugh, but you hold it in, not wanting to jostle Dave from his comfortable looking position. His breathing is steady, comforting in its easiness. You wonder if he’s asleep or not, and if not probably soon to fall into a slumber.

 

You hope he falls asleep and dreams of happy things. You hope his sleep is light and unburdened like you know yours wont be, like it hasn’t been for a long time. Like it probably always will be until always turns to just one last night. You feel the pain in your sleep, and sometimes when you wake up. The reminder that your body is withering away. It is failing. Like a shell being thrown into the ocean, its weight is pulling down whatever’s inside it. It makes your body feel like a burden, dead weight, nothing more.

But then you feel Dave’s soft breath on your skin and you take it back. You’re body IS a burden to you, but its not worthless, not dead weight. It will carry you until it can’t, and with it you will be able to be physically close to Dave. You will place your hands in his, your lips upon his own, bring your foreheads to touch, legs to intertwine. You are grateful that you have the body you are in, even if the time will be short lived. You know your body, and like an old shirt it is comfortable and well worn, if not the most appealing.

You play invisible songs on Dave’s scalp, your fingers tapping so lightly, moving in small gestures and skimming easily. With every movement you make yourself aware of the curve his skull provides, the softer parts of his head, the silkiness of his hair, the places where it is finest and where it is thickest. You memorize the feel of it all under your hand. You try to remember all the different parts of the brain, tracing the areas where they would be. You fixate on one place and then move to the next. You run your hands over and over through white threads.

You feel, and you memorize, locking it all away within your mind so that when your hands are too slow to move swiftly, too pained to hold easily, and too weak to lift effectively, you can remember.

You realize you are crying again, and your frustration becomes unbearable. You feel worthless, helpless, and selfish. A part of you is holding your loss of acceptance against Dave, because if he had just not spoken to you that night, just not gotten drunk, just not told you anything, you would be ok with this. But now you felt like you were being cheated. You had gone through so much to come to the simple understanding that you loved Dave, and then so much more when you gave up on trying to pursue him. And now that life itself is giving up on you, NOW you get to have him?

Or maybe this was a peace offering from life, or god or the gods or whatever. Like the make-a-wish foundation, someone or something out there had given Dave to you as a parting gift. You didn’t have to feel any last regrets, any missed out opportunities when it came to what you had really desired. It brings to mind the question that, if by some miracle, you were to live to be a very old man, but you and Dave were never together, would you choose that life over the one you have now, where you’re going to die so young but be with Dave, if only for a little?

Would you choose a longer life by at least 50 years or a life with Dave loving you?

You want to say yes, of course you would choose Dave, but there’s another, though honestly smaller, part of you that screams for life. It cries out for the experiences you will never have, the joys never shared, the places you will never see. It cries for a future you cannot have.

And then Dave snores a little.

You are pulled abruptly back to the real world, where Dave IS here. Lying on top of you, his eyes still puffy from shed tears, lips parted just a bit, hair frazzled perfectly.

You would choose this option every time.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rose POV next chapter


	7. Chapter 7

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rose POV. Chapter is pretty short, next one will come sooner. I really don't know how to respond to the comments, they're so kind and incredibly flattering, just, wow I'm so glad people like the story so far, and thank you all so much

 

You like to think of yourself as a patient, calm, and over all, clever young woman. You have worked relentlessly in life, bested opponents, mastered words, etc. You dress smartly, you speak intelligently, and you act respectably. Though you true strength lies in the dealings of letters on paper, you know your willpower could overthrow commanding officers of higher armies. You are uniquely gifted with the ability to use brute force along with subtlety together.

Dave may think his poker face is as smooth as polished stone, but your mask shows enough falsehood to send other in the completely wrong direction, while his only invoked curiosity, and eventual understanding. He will never have the true ability to hide himself from others, to cut himself off if he wanted to continue going out in public, unlike you, the pretty little thing, so fragile compared to such a stoic, determined, fast man.

Utter foolishness.

With that very logic one should assume an elephant is the most dangerous thing in the world while a cobra couldn’t possibly harm anything. Or that it was much more likely that an entire group of men carried the bubonic Plague rather than creatures smaller than the average hand.

There is definitely something to be said about the Fem Fetal, you think. For everyone would be suspicious of Dave with his cold appearance, and John with his muscle, yet who would turn to Jade with her charming smile and large eyes, who could hit a mouse a mile away using a pistol without even looking. Or you, with your small body and delicate hands, capable of grabbing the nearest object and forcing it into the opponents eye sockets until they cry blood. Why do so many never pay attention to what lies beyond the first layer of skin, deeming a smile a sign of happiness yet so rarely observing the eyes with all their strain and depression? Are human beings overall stupid, or just choosing to see what they want?

Why do you think you’re the strongest, the most durable and cold, when here you are, weeping?

 

You’re standing in Dave’s bathroom, trying to get ahold of yourself. You want to wake Jade, get some water and food in her, yet here you stand, unable to completely muffle your sobs and stop the messy train of tears from forming in your eyes.

You’re pathetic to think you were the strong one. To think that you held yourself so high when you were so obviously below. Did the others see you like that? Like how you truly were, so below them that you didn’t even deserve to speak in your pretentious voice?

When Dave and John had lost their guardians, they grieved together, and got over it together, and moved on as stronger individuals from the experience. But you? You had grieved alone and unhealthily. You had turned to substance when they had not, you had embarrassed yourself and resorted to alcohol so fast you hadn’t even thought about it. You nearly killed yourself, and as for being a stronger person, you left yourself only a little more distant, slightly bitchier, and physically unstable at points. You were a shaking mess, and it took the pity of your dearest friends to gather you up and finally help you take the right steps forward instead of fifty backwards.

And what have you done for them in return, helped them with homework? Given financial advice? Helped with dishes on movie night?

Your hands wrap tighter around the bottle, for it was THE bottle you held, not just a single insignificant nothing. How could you even be thinking of this, when you had made such promises and completed so much?

You face your refection in Dave’s mirror. The scared, pale, anxious face that greets you belongs to a girl you despise, and suddenly the reflection turns hostile, and you know she hates you back. In your hand is the bottle of vodka, opened from past use, but new to yours. It is beyond temptation but also shame that you hold it. You had fumbled and found the bottle after searching through cabinets, eyes still blurred from the constant steam of tears. And you had been so close, _so close_ to that first sip, and then Jade had moved.

She was only turning over on the futon. Her back that had been facing you now turned the other way, leaving you with Jade’s peaceful face, still deep in slumber. Her hair was even wilder than usual, spread around her almost like a blanket. Despite her size due to pure muscle, she was curled in a small ball, looking for all the world like an innocent child. Her skin bore no noticeable scars, all just smooth and dark tissue covering bones and muscle.

How could you commit the crime when she slept so gently right there? If she were to open her eyes, the first thing she would see was the beginning of your great fall, and you would only see the heartbreak and disappointment reflected so clearly in the way that she could not hide.

So you retreated, hid in Dave’s bathroom, and fought the urge to down the entire bottle while also wanting to vomit. You feel sick of your own being. Your skin is too heavy, your eyes burn harshly and you can’t control the god damn tears.

You could be fun. You could be easy and silly with this ordinary bottle. You could relax, reorganize thoughts, take you mind off the problems that plague you. Could you hide it? Could you just sit in this bathroom and become intoxicated, and let things go on their own?

But Jade was right there. This was Dave’s apartment. You wouldn’t have time to hide the evidence of your weakness, nor would you be able to explain it with any form of true reason. Dave wouldn’t verbally say anything, but his clear unhappiness would be evident. His disappointment drowning, unbearable. The boy that couldn’t shut up would go silent at your error. And Jade would express all her displeasure so easily through looks and words. She would be sad, not because you had done something bad, but because she was sad FOR you, and that was almost as unbearable as Dave’s silence.

And then John, with all his sweetness even as he received news of his illness, would blame himself. Or would give you the excuse of himself so easily. How can we blame Rose for this when MY cancer made her so sad? Of course he would take the blame from her, weed it away and make the focus on getting you better rather than discipline. And there would be time wasted getting you better. Time that Jade could be spending with her adoptive brother, Dave with his love, you NOT getting better but instead already BEING better and focusing on the one who wasn’t.

You are the responsible one. You’ve always played the role of the adult among kids. You’ve given directions and taken action. You work to help your friends achieve their goal, you would die for them any day at any moment. You are willing to protect them at all costs.

So why are bringing the bottle to your lips?

Why does the vulgar burn of vodka down your throat feel like heaven when you’re entering hell?

Why do you even bother?

 

It’s been an hour since you watched Dave leave. In that time Jade has remained asleep, while you, in all your glory, finish the vodka, and let the effects take over.

There is a lazy smile on your face, and you feel warm. You’re siting in the bath tub/shower with the curtain pulled to cover you as if you were actually washing. You feel like a kid playing hide and seek, and you giggle. How could anyone find the mysterious Rose Lalonde now? Why, it was impossible sir! Absolutely incredible, her ways of escape! That clever lady and all her cleverness!

You laugh a bit louder, quickly clapping a hand over your mouth. Can’t let Jade hear you! She would give you that silly pout of hers. Why is she always so sad when you just want to have some fun with her? You’re just relaxed is all, it’s not like you act that weird. As Dave would say, you are chill as fuck right now.

You wonder if Dave is alright. You hope John is, you hope they both are. Maybe they’re having sex since its ben so long since Dave rushed out the door.

Why did he leave you so fast? Is John that much more important to him than you are? And how come he didn’t hug you when you were crying? You never cry. You are Rose fucking Lalonde you are so fucking tough it’s incredible. You don’t cry. But he just ran out, leaving you in his shitty little apartment with Jade passed out of the couch. He didn’t want to be around you. Why would he? Who wants to be around the cold bitch all the time anyways? Of course he left so fast, one look at Rose crying and its head for the hills because no one knows what to do. Dave doesn’t show emotion but you all love him, why can’t they love you? But who really needs you anyways, miss clever mouth and composure. Does anyone actually want you around?

But _she_ would want you.

 _She_ would still love you no matter what, you’re sure of it. And you know you would love her no matter what too because you just know. You know Dave was judging you when you told him, you KNOW you sounded crazy. But it was true, all of it. It’s not even a feeling that she’s out there, it’s just a fact you know. She is somewhere far away, impossibly far, and you will never get even an inch closer to her in your life. It’s written in the stars; Rose Lalonde will never meet her soul mate. Maybe because you don’t deserve a soul mate. Maybe this is the universe’s way of telling you that you don’t get jack shit because you cant even control your own life. Maybe it’s better after all. This way you cant hurt her. She’ll never see you all messed up like you probably are now. She could be out there thinking of you as the most perfect thing ever, and it can stay that way. She will never know how wrong she is about you and how flawed you are.

 

“Dave? Dave, where the fuck are you I need all your Advil right now.”

 

Jade? Did Jade wake up?

 

“Dave are you in the bathroom? Oh god I think I’m going to die.”

 

You could get up and help her, but the bathtub is pretty comfortable and for some reason you think it would be better for her not to see you. You guess you’ll just hide?

 

“Dave for fucks sake I’m coming in I think I’m gonna thrown up. Shiiiit.”

 

You hear the door burst open and right next to you the presence of Jade can be felt. Is she leaning over the toilet? Maybe she’s really throwing up.

 

“Shit, ow god shiittt whyyyy did we do that. That wasn’t a good idea Dave! Wherever you are.”

 

Hehe. Is she talking to herself? That’s so hilarious.

 

“Dave are you actually laughing at me from your own bathtub? I swear to god I’m going to shoot you in the dick you are such a-

 

The curtain is pulled back swiftly, and you blink at the increase of light. You wish it were dark again.

 

“Rose?”

 

Hey that’s your name! Who- Oh right Jade!

 

“Hi Jaaaddee.”

 

Her name is actually really great to say.

 

“Wha-oh no shit Rose give me that bottle.”

 

“Wha? Oh sorry you don’t get any its preetttyyy empty.”

 

You look up at her face. Her eyes have always been so green it’s the best. Green is a fantastic color. It reminds you of happiness and good things. And they’re so beautiful too.

 

“Rose…Rose no why did you do this?”

 

Why? Did you need a reason? You’re just having some fun, letting the stress go and such. Jade is so sweet and is she picking you up? So strong and sweet.

 

“Rose no, no no no nooo Rose you promised us all, and getting drunk _now?_ We need to get you sober.”

 

“You got to get drunk last night, why can’t I get drunk now huh?”

 

“It’s different with us, you would understand if you weren’t so drunk right now!”

 

“…are you mad at me?”

 

You squish her face with your hands. You don’t know where she’s taking you but she’s really warm and you feel pretty comfy.

 

“I’m not mad, I’m hung-over and sad and it sucks.”

 

She puts you down on something soft, but you wrap your arms around her neck. You don’t want to be alone.

 

“Rose let go of my neck please.”

 

“Don’t leave me alone Jade, Dave already left, don’t go too.”

 

“Dave left where? Wait did he leave you like this?!?”

 

“Dave left, Johns leaving, don’t leave me too. Pleaaassee?”

 

“Shhh, I wont leave you I promise, will you let go of my neck though?”

 

You let go because she promised, and you trust Jade. She pulls away and there are those green eyes again, and the light must be low because they look darker, almost dark enough…

 

“Rose I still need my neck ok? I’m just gonna get us some water.”

 

Almost perfect. So close to perfect. You don’t know why they’re almost perfect but they’re right there…

 

“Rose?”

 

You kiss her, because almost perfect is almost always good enough right? And the color was almost right, almost the perfect shade, almost the RIGHT shade. Why is she pulling away?

 

“Rose, stop it. Please, I’m trying to help you, I’m trying. God I swear I’m trying.”

 

She closes her eyes and you’re sad again. Why did she have to close her eyes?

Why is she crying? Did you make her sad?

Jade?

 

“Jade?”

 

“It’s gonna be ok. I know it’s not great right now, but it’ll get better, ok Rose?”

 

“…ok.”

 

“I’m gonna get us some water, and then maybe you should take a nap?”

 

A nap sounds nice. You wish the couch was green. You nod to Jade because she’s looking at you.

 

“I’ll be right back Rose.”

 

But you’re not paying attention. Besides, lots of people say that and don’t mean it. She might come back, she might not. At least she’s here now, unlike the woman you really want to be here. Why can’t she be here?

 When Jade comes back you’re crying, and she says words that don’t form to your brain, and holds you. You cling to her as you cry, not even remembering why you’re crying. Was it for John? For Dave? For yourself?

 

You wish the bottle wasn’t empty.

 


	8. Chapter 8

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Short chapter, Dave's POV then Jade's. When someone relapses, its important to have good friends.  
> I apologize for any typos  
> Next chapter will be soon  
> You're comments are too kind to be real

 

 

When you were 7 you didn’t block Bro’s sword in time, and the metal went through your skin, slicing deep in your arm. You hadn’t screamed but you did cry a little. Mostly you accepted that you were injured, much more so than you ever had been, and that it hurt. Lying on the concrete roof in the evening heat as you bled, you closed your eyes and grit your teeth. You were proud not to have cried out or sobbed.

Even though the hands that had harmed you were now holding you, you felt incredibly safe. The entire world could go black behind your eyes, the strongest light already darkened by your shades, and you could still feel Bro’s arms around you, the air rushing by as he flash stepped, your body never being jostled. When you felt the needle in your fragile flesh you whimpered, and he had spoken softly and not just shortly. You continued to cry, but always silently, holding in the voice of pain as the needle dipped in and out. Disinfectant stung and smelled and you felt cold even though you sweat. You felt much smaller than you usually did sitting next to Bro, and when he asked if you were ok you said you were ok, because at the time you didn’t really know the difference between ok and not ok. You were alive, you had stopped bleeding, Bro was there, sure, you were ok.

It never occurred to you that being in pain could be considered not ok, because you figured that if you had survived that was good enough.

Maybe Bro knew this when you didn’t, because despite your answer he had held you close for a moment, saying you did good kid, and then giving you a small smile that you thought was just a spastic movement of his mouth. You ordered pizza and ate, tears long dried and wounds beginning to heal.

 

When you wake up in John’s arms that’s what you’re reminded of. Dried tears and healing wounds, deep cuts and understandings realized. When you had fallen asleep on the couch all that time ago you had woken up in your bed, covers placed gently over you. You feel better waking up with John’s arms than with a blanket. It was like with Bro all over again; despite him being the cause of your pain, though without meaning to of course, he was also your source of comfort and safety. He had left the cut, but also repaired it.

Maybe you enjoyed being hurt, torn apart and then put back together with delicate care. You never really put yourself back together, it was your bro or John or Rose or Jade. It helped you to know that they wouldn’t leave you shattered on the floor, and maybe a part of you knew when you were about to shatter into all those pieces but never stopped yourself. You needed the reassurance that they would still be there for you.

You hope that John doesn’t wake up yet. You don’t know what time it is, the sun was hidden by clouds. When he was sleeping he couldn’t worry, couldn’t hurt, and you wanted him to stay peaceful in his rest.

You also wanted his attention, his sweetness, his love. But his face was soft, all the lines of worry he wore relaxed and his lips were parted just enough for the passage of air to flow. His glasses were still on, crooked from his rest. You suddenly found the image unsettling. Like a picture that had appeared in your mind before, of John lying on the ground, his glasses askew, eyes closed. You had fixed his glasses then, (it must have been a forgotten dream) but why had you fixed his glasses when he would never open his eyes again?

You took his glasses away quickly, setting them on the coffee table. You felt your heart thud too loudly, the strange dream of your John lying dead too strange in its vivid quality. But then your John, the real John, sighed lightly and his head tilted and all the doubts of death left. Dreams were nothing more than dreams. John was here.

 

_But he wont be, not for very long._

You flinch so hard at your own thoughts you’re worried you’ve woken John. He mumbles sleepily, adjusts his body, nuzzles closer to you, and his breathing returns to slow and easy. You wait, stiff and wide eyed as he falls back to sleep. Your thoughts resonate truth that won’t be going away anytime soon, but still provide horrible thoughts. At the same time though, they provide prompts.

 

_Make it count, make it last. Date him, woo him, seduce him, love him._

You will. You’ll make every second matter. You’ve spent enough time being frustrated over John, imagining sex with him too, but also the kind of dates you’d go on. You have the normal candle lit dinner, one you feel like you really need to do because you’d love to see John in a suit just for you. You also have the cheesy amusement park date but you don know about that because you fucking hate how crowded those things are, and you don’t want crowded, never have, never will. You wanted to take him to one of your favorite clubs though, maybe on a night where you play, or maybe a night when you can dance with him in low light with heavy music, dancing close, air hot and clinging, clothes becoming see-though ok maybe later but club could be fun yeah next idea. A jam session came to mind a few times, where you both cook (he cooks, you attempt) and then you mix and he plays. You record, and watch him the entire time. Then there are the dates where you travel, sometimes a car ride to a lookout point, spending the night looking out at the view (you would look at him of course) and probably making out in the car, maybe getting to a few bases. Sometimes you imagine taking him across the world, doing the stupidest shit like kissing on the Eiffel Tower, holding hands in Time Square, diving in Australia even.

You’re pocket suddenly begins to violently start vibrating, and not the fun kind, the kind that means someone is calling you. You fumble, trying to get to it as John stirs a bit, unwinding your arms quickly to get it out in hopes of turning it off. The number is Jade’s, but you end the call anyways. Jade probably just woke up, wondering where you were and what happened or something, and Rose is there for that. John continues to shift a bit, and you hope he hasn’t woken up yet. Even though you somehow know it’s late in the afternoon, you want him to get more rest. Your awareness of time makes you think that with the little sleep he got last night and the small nap he’s taken with you, he needs more.

But he wakes up, and you can’t help but feel ridiculously happy to see his eyes open to yours. He looks groggy and confused, but then smiles. Your heart beats a little faster.

 

“Hi.”

 

“Hey.”

 

You just kind of look at each other, and its ok because where before you would be afraid he would think you meant something by it, now he _knows_ you mean something by it but he returns the meaning. You are allowed to look at him as a lover, to enjoy the feeling of closeness without awkwardness.

The moment ends when your phone begins vibrating again. John’s smile leaves and you want to cry for it to come back. He looks over your shoulder a bit, the direction of the damned buzzing noise.

You go ahead and glance at the phone. Jade again.

 

“Who’s calling?”

 

“Someone not as important as me.”

 

“Jade or Rose?”

 

“They’re both not as important as me.”

 

“Important to me or important to the world?”

 

“Both. Neither. Who gives a fuck.”

 

With that you ignore the vibrating phone and move a hand up to cup John’s face, pulling him the needed distance closer to meet your lips. You’re still kissing when the phone stops going, and still again when it starts for the third time.

 

“Oh my fucking god fine jesus dick Jade.”

 

John looks a bit unhappy as you pull away, clearly not excited about the phone call either. You’ll make it up to him in a second, you just have to tell Jade to knock it off. You would turn off your phone, but you feel paranoid with it off. Like the moment it shuts down someone would need you but be unable to reach you. Thanks to your stupid paranoia you have to deal with this shit.

 

“Harley what the fuck do you-

 

“Shut up for 2 seconds! I’ve been calling you for a while why didn’t you pick up?? Doesn’t matter, never mind! I on the other hand woke up alone and, and shit hold on AND DON’T HANG UP!”

 

“God damn it you’re not alone. Rose-

 

“Rose is-OW! Rose is acting hysterical! I’ve tried everything but she wont calm down!”

 

“…what? What do you-

 

“She’s been trying to leave and when I stopped her she just lost it! She’s crying and trying to fight me and she’s making a lot of noise!”

 

Sure enough, the sounds you didn’t really register before because of Jade’s loud voice become coherent cries of pain, even unrecognizable words being shouted.

 

“Jesus where did she want to go? Just let her fuckin leave it must be pretty damn important.”

 

“I-I…I am, uh, unable to do that.”

 

“Why the hell not?”

 

“She’s…not feeling to great. She should sleep!”

 

“Jesus Christ just let her go and follow her if you’re that worried. We done here?”

 

“No! No, no uh, Dave please I need your help-ROSE PLEASE STOP KICKING ME!”

 

John taps you on the shoulder.

 

“What’s goin on?”

 

“Not sure. I think Jade is holding Rose hostage.”

 

“What? Why would-

 

“Tryin to figure it out now. Don’t worry I got this babe.”

 

“Babe?”

 

“Baby? Sugar? Sweetheart? Sugarplumb? Sugar ass?”

 

“Holy shit stop.”

 

He can’t hide his grin before he hides his face in his hands. You smile a tiny bit more, before realizing Jade is talking to you again.

 

“DAVE? DAVE ARE YOU THERE DAAAAAAAVVV-

 

“Mother of dicks why is this such a big deal she might just want to go home really badly for some weird reason maybe she needs to piss and doesn’t like my toilet.”

 

“Dave, I, please-I need help, she’s…she, she’s not-she’s not being, herself…”

 

“…when you mean-

 

“Don’t tell John.”

 

Her voice comes out in a whisper, strange and haunting over the phone. You feel sick, suddenly too warm, because you get it now, and you wish you didn’t.

You knew you had vodka right there in the kitchen. You knew Rose was dealing with something too big to handle alone, but you left her anyways.

You basically handed the bottle to her with your own hands, and while you were enjoying yourself, Jade had probably been dealing with something you all wished you could forget, struggling if she was in any kind of state you had been when you had first woken up.

 

You look back up at John, and you hate that you don’t have your shades on because with them, maybe you had a chance of fooling him, but he can see something’s wrong, and he doesn’t ask, he just waits. You return to the phone call, knowing he’s trying to listen, and knowing he’s watching you more carefully, more knowingly.

 

“I’ll be there in a sec. just hang in there a bit longer ok?”

 

You think you hear a sob on the other end.

 

“Ok. Yeah, see you soon. Ok.”

 

Her voice is still quiet, and then the line goes dead.

You turn to John. You wish you didn’t recognize the look on his face.

 

“How bad is she?”

 

Like Jade, his voice is quiet, and he sounds so understanding and _sad_ and it’s not fair to him.

 

“Not that bad, Jade’s just hung over so she needs me to take this one. I’ll run over, take her home, tuck her up in bed like a 2 year old, and be right back. Everything’s cool.”

 

“Dave.”

 

“She’s probably asleep already. Hell I bet Jade fell asleep on top of her.”

 

“I want to help. It’s my fau-

 

“Don’t.”

 

“How bad is Rose really?”

 

“I can handle it. I’ll be right back-

 

“I don’t want to be alone again. I’ll come, I’ll help, it’ll be ok. But I AM coming.”

 

The finality of his voice only grew as he gently pushed you up, rising to his feet as you did the same. Your phone said it was almost 3pm, but the cloudiness of the sky made it look later than it was. It would be dark by 6 or 7. John was grabbing your hand and his jacket at the same time, and you appreciated that even if he was upset with you he wasn’t ignoring or spiting you in anyway. He was actually acting, as weird as it was, like the adult. Not that he wasn’t mature, but John always carried a boyish innocence with him.

 

“Ready?”

 

You’re still wearing your jacket from earlier, and you don’t have anything else to bring.

 

“Yeah. Let’s go.”

 

 

 ~~~~~

 

 

You’re holding Rose in your arms at this point, not really wanting to sit on her anymore since she was so small compared to you. You thank god you put your wild hair up because with all the thrashing Rose was doing she probably would have gotten tangled in it by now. She’s one big mess of tears and struggle, and for the life of you, you just can’t figure out what’s wrong.

 

“Rose! Rose it’s ok! It’s me, Jade! Hey, you’re safe I promise!”

 

Nothing. She continues to try and slip out from your death grip but even with her scratching and clawing (geez that really hurts) there’s no way for her to get out of your arms. Honestly, you don’t think anyone in your group could overpower you save John (and that’s only because of his stupid growth spurt). Considering how little Rose was, and how scrawny you thought Dave looked (“I’m not scrawny Harley its called lean muscle educate yourself.”) it was a miracle you hadn’t accidently crushed them by now.

You try to continue holding Rose in a gentle but firm grip as she cries and mumbled, praying that Dave will get here soon. You don’t know where he went, having been unable to get anything from Rose, but if you had to guess it would be to John’s place. What exactly was going on there, you had no idea. Events from last night were still foggy, and your head was killing you and you still kind of wanted to throw up. The important thing was that John didn’t have to deal with this shit. You and Dave could handle it fine without worrying John. All he ever does is worry about you guys sometimes! Right now he just needs to worry about himself.

 

“Yo open up I forgot my keys!”

 

Oh thank god you’re saved. Dave is the knight in shining armor. It is him.

 

“Gimme a sec!”

 

You cant just put Rose down because she would bolt for the door and either A) get out or B) fall over while trying to run and hurt herself. You go ahead and throw her over your shoulder, wincing as she kicks your boob because owww!

You’re basically ready to throw Rose at Dave’s face when you open the door, but the first person you see isn’t Dave.

 

You take it back, Dave is peasant working in piles of cow shit. Good luck becoming a knight now mister peasant!

“Jade are you ok? I can take her if you want.”

 

God damnit John! You had wanted to pick up Dave, throw him in the room, and shut the door in John’s face but he was already being too nice! STRIDER!!!!

 

You give Dave the most withering look you can, and you watch with satisfaction as he cowers a little, looking down even and hey! Where are his shades? Whatever that’s not important right now!

You feel the weight of Rose on your shoulder suddenly being lifted, and you look away from Dave to watch in horror as John lifts Rose as easily as a small child and all but cradles her. You can’t believe you’ve already lost control of the whole keep-John-the-fuck-out-of-this plan. He’s moving back to the couch, and Rose has apparently calmed down with the thrashing, choosing instead to cry even harder into her hands. You see Dave make a move to go over, but you give him a good smack upside the head first.

 

“The fuck Harley?!”

 

“You brought John! How could you bring John? What were you thinking?!”

 

You whisper furiously at him but all he does is give you an annoyed, tired look.

 

“I didn’t really have a choice, he heard most of the conversation, he almost left without me.”

 

“Auuuuhhhgggg!”

 

You throw you hands up in frustration, bring one back down to rub your throbbing head. You want to go curl up on the cold floor for a few hours pretend that none of this is happening.

 

“I’ll grab you some pain reliever, it looks like John’s already helping bring Rose back to us.”

 

Maybe Dave wasn’t a peasant after all. But still not a knight! He could be a steward or something.

 

You let him flash step away, trying to ignore his fast movements as you go to sit beside John and Rose. You plop down, watching as John says soft words to Rose as her crying turns lighter. He’s still holding her like a child, nestled in his arms even though Rose isn’t THAT little. He’s smiling down at her, but her eyes are closed, face scrunched up in pain at something you couldn’t know.

You remember Mr. Egbert comforting you when you were younger, after moving into their home. You had been teased, harshly so, by other kids at school for being so socially clueless. You hid in the big closet downstairs, John looking for you outside, assuming you had climbed a tree somewhere. Mr. Egbert had found you, and held you even though you were taller than John at the time. It was an embrace you had never known; fatherly, parental, and protective. He had really cared about you, and you had taken it hard when he died.

The way John handles Rose in the state she was in makes you think that John would be a good father. You wonder if he would be just like his own dad or different. You had never asked John if he wanted any children of his own, the conversation never coming up. But now he would never get the chance whether he wanted to or not.

You close your eyes and lean forward, pushing the negative thoughts away as your head continues to pound harshly. You can’t focus on that stuff, not when you have to help Rose.

Dave appears beside you, offering two glorious little pills and a glass of water. Forget steward, Dave can be a damn knight.

 

“How’s she doin?”

 

Dave’s voice sounds so much softer than normal, but then again it’s been a while since Rose relapsed. You know he’s not talking to you, so you continue to sip at the water. As far as you’re concerned, the situation is out of your hands, and never should have been in them in the first place. You’ll help when you can actually be useful.

 

“She’s not so bad. She keeps talking about some girl she’ll never meet, always being alone. Was she dating someone or something?”

 

“Uh, no. She told me some stuff a while ago, I think she means her soul mate.”

 

“There’s no way Rose believes in soul mates.”

 

“She was the one goin on about some chick she was in love with but would never get to be with, something like that. Sounds pretty soul matey to me.”

 

“I didn’t know Rose was interested in girls at all.”

 

“I didn’t know you were interested in me at all.”

 

You snap your head up at that.

 

“Wowa what? What the fuck Dave! What did I miss?”

 

“While you were snoozing on my bed me and John became a thing. And yes it’s a pretty big deal so I expect congratulation gifts and a party in honor of my ability to seduce Egbert. I’ll also need a celebratory cake after taking his virginity.”

 

“Not a virgin, we haven’t had sex yet, Dave shut up.”

 

“Haven’t had sex ‘yet’. You said that. Those were your words.”

 

“I said shut up!”

 

Holy shit! Holy shit John and Dave are a thing! Holy shit! What the fuck happened while you were asleep?!?!?

 

“How did all this happen when I was asleep??? Does EVERYTHING happen while I’m sleeping?!?”

 

“You do kinda sleep a lot.”

 

“Says the guy who wont get up before noon unless there’s an emergency.”

 

“Oh wow nice burn there Egbert. I just might need a bandaid.”

 

“You’re not supposed to cover small burns you need to let the heat-

 

“Holy shit the inner bio nerd has appeared.”

 

“This is common knowledge! Right Jade?”

 

“It is kinda common knowledge Dave.”

 

“Well excuse me for never burning myself and figuring this out. I’d like to see you bitches stitch up an arm.”

 

“Actually-

 

“Shut it Harley.”

 

“What? I grew up on an island!”

 

“Guys! Shush! Rose is talking!”

 

You go quiet, covering Dave’s mouth to ensure the ceasing of his ever moving mouth. Seriously, would it kill Dave to shut up for 2 seconds?

You lean in to hear what Rose is saying. She’s limp and pale in John’s arms, looking so fragile. Sometimes you think she’s so pale she looks grey in certain light. Even Dave has a little color under all the freckles. John was always tan, although nothing compared to you. Though normally if Rose was drunk it was best to ignore her silly rambles and make sure she got some sleep, when she was in a state like now, so clearly upset, it was important to listen to see if they could help with whatever was bothering her.

 

“If I go home, will you all stay with me?”

 

You’re heart aches for Rose. She had been going through just as hard a time as all of you, but none of you had been there for her. Dave had gone to John, and where had you been? Asleep? Passed out because of the brilliant idea that getting drunk last night would be fun?

Wait. Did you call John last night?

Did you and Dave talk to John while you were drunk?

Oh fuck! What did you guys say? Ah! Not the time! Rose needs you more!

 

“Of course we’ll stay with you. You’ll go to bed though, right?”

 

She nods to John, and you and Dave say the same.

 

“We’ll make sure to be there when you wake up too. And we’ll keep the nightmares away, promise!”

 

“Yeah, cant wait to watch you while you sleep, take pictures, use Photoshop, I wouldn’t miss this for the world.”

 

John flicks Dave’s ear, and you grab his wrist before he can retaliate since John is holding Rose, carrying her to the door. You’re the only one who has a car, and its thankfully still where you left it. You were always only a walk away from each other, sometimes a bus ride, and never that far from a grocery store or anything, so there wasn’t much reason for any of you to have a vehicle. You had invested in your jeep during college, and it had served as the main transportation for everyone. It was definitely yours though, since the main reason you had bought it in the first place was to satisfy your desperate need for occasional solidarity. You had needed to be utterly alone for periods of time, and the others respected that greatly. You don’t do it very often now, but there are times when you still just need to feel alone.

You still drive your friends places that are too far for comfort. None of you liked public transportation. Dave especially had a thing with being on crowded buses, and John couldn’t go in a subway station if his life depended on it. Something about being trapped underground, not being able to see the sky. By the time you get to your car you’ve taken Rose again. She isn’t kicking you now, and it’s easy to carry her. She looks so sad, and it hurts that you don’t know how to make her happy. You grew up without the ability to hide any emotion, why would you need to? You were alone on an island. John never bothered hiding anything, and he was pretty bad at lying, and Dave’s stupid poker face could break easily around you guys. But Rose, for all her kindness and support had issues with opening up. You like to think of Rose as a rose bud, because she was pretty and delicate (and had thorns) but never opened to become a full flower. No matter what you did, she just didn’t want to bloom.

John drives (you will never trust Dave behind a wheel since he thinks speed limits are just suggestions) and he had the good sense to grab Rose’s keys, and gets ahead of you to open the door when you arrive. You hadn’t even realized Rose had fallen asleep until you place her on her bed, noticing her soft breath and closed eyes. You shoo the boys out of the room as you nudge her awake enough to help her change. You really hope Rose doesn’t mind that you’re basically stripping her, but she most likely wont even remember this happened. Once she’s in her pajamas you tuck her in, and after a second thought kiss her forehead. You’d never seen it happen, but you think mothers used to do it to their children to show affection.

Instead of joining the boys back in the living room, you pull up the chair at Rose’s desk, and lean into it. Rose said she didn’t want to be alone, and even though you would all stay at her place until she woke up, you really didn’t want to leave her alone at all. It was quiet and dark in her room, and pretty messy. You had to keep yourself from getting up and sorting things around the room, because Rose would kill you if you touched her stuff.

You figure its going to be a long night, and though the pills Dave gave you have helped the throb of your head die down, you’re still tired, your energy drained. You lean forward and take Rose’s hand as you place your head on her comforter.

 

Things were hard, and they were going to get harder, but you promise yourself that you will always, no matter what, be there for every one of your best friends.

 

 

 

 

 


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> im sorry this chapter is late, i had no internet for quite a while   
> I'll update more frequently than this now that I have available wifi

Jade doesn’t come back out from Rose’s room, and you figure she’s going to stay in there, which you’re grateful for. You didn’t want Rose to be alone for a second, and the guilt you feel from leaving her before still tears at you. Even though you’re happy to be alone with John now, you still feel like you should be the one in there. You did this to Rose, you know you did. John may think it’s his fault, and Jade may feel bad for being asleep, but it was your mistake in the end, and you weren’t even the one to fix it. You hadn’t even calmed her down, that was all John’s doing. He had swooped in and saved the day, because he was _good_ at saving the day. When you think about all the vital roles your friends play in holding the group together, it’s always John that does the big stuff. The things that bind you together so strongly no one can fall, with Rose always there to repair and tie the unwinding knots, Jade to glue parts back together and paint over the marks of damage. You guard this imaginary fortress of your friendship, never letting anything that could hurt you slip in, always prepared to go down first. You guess that’s wrong though, since YOU’RE the thing that keeps sliding in and hurting everyone. And if you cant protect, what the hell can you do? You used to think you were an offensive player, striking first, the goal to fight and win. But that was before you lost Bro, before you’re friends became your life, before you became all too aware that you had so much worth protecting that you switched to defense. You stopped fighting and started guarding. You didn’t make the first move anymore. Why play the role of a hero when you never were one?

 

“She’s gonna be ok you know. This isn’t as bad as her last relapse, and she came out of that one on top. You know Rose, she’s like a cat. Always lands on her feet, even if it’s a long fall.”

 

You look over at John, wishing for the hundredth time you hadn’t left your shades on his table. He could see all your trouble and worry, and he was sneaking inside you, stopping the flow of doubts. You didn’t deserve to feel better about the situation, you SHOULD feel guilty damnit. Rose is basically your sister and you let her down, hard.

 

“No, hey, no moping. If this is anyone’s fault-

 

“It’s mine. Not yours. You weren’t there when she came over. She was fucking crying right in front of me and I left her. I could see how badly she needed someone and I left her alone, minus sleeping beauty on my couch.”

 

“No one could have known she was going to start drinking again. Hell, Rose probably didn’t even know she was going to start drinking again. Blaming yourself for this is like blaming a bird for flying. Its unfair and you should stop.”

 

“Then stop blaming yourself too.”

 

“I started all this.”

 

“No, you fuckin didn’t. Jesus John you didn’t go out and get lung cancer it just happened. If anything is to blame its fuckin life, and we all knew that life was a bitch from the start.”

 

“…hehe, yeah. Life really is a bitch, huh?”

 

“Life is the biggest fucking bitch. The bitchiest bitch to ever bitch. And I have met some pretty big bitches dude.”

 

“How bitchy Dave?”

 

“Hella.”

 

“You don’t even use that word ironically anymore do you.”

 

“Its ironic that I don’t use it ironically. Therefore it’s still ironic.”

 

“That’s one of the stupidest things I’ve ever heard.”

 

“You’re the stupidest thing I ever heard.”

 

“Nice comeback dork.”

  
“You’re the dork here.”

 

“Dooorrkkk.”

 

“How can you say I’m the dork here, do you see me? Do you see my swag compared to you?”

 

“You are the biggest dork, like, ever.”

 

“You wear square glasses with thick frames and have buck teeth. Have you ever typed ‘dork’ in google image because you will find your twin.”

 

“Oh I’m sure you look up pictures of guys with square glasses with thick frames and buck teeth a lot Dave.”

 

He fucking wiggles his eyebrows at you and you want to punch him in the face almost as much as you want to punch yourself in the face because you are _blushing damnit_ shit fuck.

 

“You’re the dork.”

 

“Oh my god you have haven’t you? Hehe do you save the pictures? Do you have a special folder?”

 

“Yeah I named it ‘John is a fucking dork and should shut the fuck up’.”

 

“I should investigate this. I bet Jade knows how to hack a computer.”

 

“Don’t you even fucking think about hacking my computer I have important art shit on there I will literally kill both of you if you try anything with my precious laptop.”

 

You’re blushing hotly now because honestly you may or may not have some things on your computer that are best not seen by anyone and maybe you have a porn folder that tends to be a lot of brunettes with glasses and big muscles and maybe sometimes with a blond partner and the point is, no one should be on your laptop looking for that shit. No one.

 

“You know, I’m kind of insulted you would use cheap knock offs when the real thing is right here.”

 

You feel your eyebrows shoot up before you can stop them. Fuck your lack of shades fucking fuck. Oh god he’s blushing just from saying that he is so adorable.

 

“Well its not like the original was available for use until recently.”

 

Did you actually just say that. Are you actually playing along here.

 

“Well maybe since you’ve waited so long for the original you should get to it and do what you’ve been waiting for.”

 

Is John Egbert dirty talking with you. Is that happening. You think its happening.

 

“And what exactly have I been waiting to do with the original?”

 

You could add on a playful sentence, lighten the conversation to an easy joke, but he’s looking at you with that playful smile and those easy eyes and you don’t care if you’re in Rose’s living room at all.

 

“Something very fun, something _totally_ worth the wait.”

 

You’re in his lap in seconds, leaning in close, not yet ready to give in, but certainly not willing to give up.

 

“I _could_ use some fun.”

 

You lean in closer, moving past his lips over to his ear. Your hand is already tangling in his hair.

 

“But part of the fun _is_ the wait.”

 

And then you pull back, and return to your original seat, smirking at him as he blushes his way through confusion, embarrassment, and then annoyance. His hand is still lifted half way, stopped before it had time to secure you to him.

You feel incredibly proud of yourself. Not only did you pull yourself back from an overwhelming tempting opportunity, but you managed to get John worked up enough to leave him flustered and clearly wanting. You deserve a prize.

 

“Tease.”

 

“Oh? And here I was thinking I was a dork.”

 

“You can be both. Also fuck you.”

 

“Right now? I thought you wanted to make it worth the wait. That would require waiting now wouldn’t it?”

 

“I am never speaking to you again.”

 

“But I’m pregnant.”

 

“We’re still getting a divorce.”

 

“I expect monthly checks for our precious little shitting machine.”

 

“Fine but I get the house.”

 

You both keep an even face for a total of five seconds. John has to muffle his laughter for fear of waking the girls, but your own laugh is quiet, and sounds raw and breathy. You don’t like your own laugh, you think it sounds hallow and unnatural, yet John insists that he likes it. Where normally you would suppress any amusement, now you show. There is resistance, and you would never do it publically, but you’ve worked yourself open for your friends over the years. You have pried off your shell when around them, and so far it has remained off.

You watch John muffle his laughter. You wonder if it hurts to laugh, or if it will soon. You realize you don’t actually know much about the way lung cancer works, but you can guess that for the disease to be deemed terminal, there must have been tumors, and did he even get them removed?

You’re reluctant to admit it, but you’ve read quite a bit of the friend-with-cancer books in a very short period of time. You don’t know what to think about some parts, because they offer ways to comfort the person you love in such different ways than those that you have ever used and been effective, but then again you never had the situation of comforting someone who was dying. You had read sections that seemed helpful and appropriate, but so much was still so new to you that you were worried any written techniques would be wasted on you. You’ll still read them of course, but you don’t know if you will follow them like a manual.

John takes your hand, and even though they are basically the same size, the proportions are so different your hand looks bigger in all its roughness. John’s fingers are longer than yours by a lot, and they easily twist into your hand, fitting themselves to your palm, almost to your wrist. Even though his fingers are thin, his hand is so warm in yours.

 

“You stopped smiling. Are you worried about Rose?”

 

You hadn’t realized you had ever been smiling in the first place. You didn’t realize you had begun and then stopped.

 

“I’m worried about a lot of things.”

 

You feel like you should have lied. You should have told him yes, you were worried about Rose, not yourself or John. There was no need to bring this up now of all times.

 

“I’m worried about a whole lot too. But at least I can worry with you. It’s surprisingly easier to worry about things with another person than by yourself.”

 

You squeeze his hand because you don’t know what to say. How do you respond to something understood but never spoken, something so innocent within honesty, and spoken so sweetly.

 

“Rose will probably be out for a while, you wanna play cards or watch TV or something?”

 

You selfishly wish you didn’t have to stay and wait for Rose to wake up, because you want to go out and be alone with John, specifically you think you want to take him to dinner. A classic fancy ass restaurant somewhere. But the desire is soon replaced by guilt, thinking about Rose and the silent way she had been begging for help but you had both noticed and ignored. You left her once, you wont do it again. John is right next to you, and that means you don’t have to leave him too.

 

“TV. I don’t know if Rose actually watches anything but if she does it would be the channel its at when we turn it on, right?”

 

“What is with you two and knowing dumb secret shit like that about each other?”

 

“Anything I can get close to using as blackmail is worth finding man. I’ve been desperate for something to use against her for a while, just turn on the TV.”

 

“What if it’s the news? Are you seriously going to blackmail Rose with something like ‘she watches the news’ Dave? Really?”

 

“Just turn it on now I feel like I gotta know.”

 

“Well now I feel like we’re about to find out some big secret we shouldn’t!”

 

“Dude just press the damn button.”

 

“Why don’t you press it?”

 

“So I can say you turned it on if its something bad.”

 

“Hey!”

 

“She’ll go way easier on you than me. Come on dude turn it on.”

 

“Hell no! Now I have a bad feeling about this.”

 

“Egbert turn on the fuckin TV.”

 

“No way.”

 

“I swear to fuck.”

 

“Whatcha gonna do, turn it on yourself? Wow Dave real threatening.”

 

“I’ll make you turn that thing on if you don’t.”

 

“Well geez now I actually feel slightly still completely uncaring.”

 

“John-

 

“Dave.”

 

He leaves you with no choice. You go ahead and move quickly, rolling onto his lap and casually laying your arms on his shoulders. He seems surprised, and flushes a bit, but other than that he seems to grasp that this is the same trick you used on him before. He looks warily at you, and you smirk. You don’t think you’ll ever get tired of teasing him like this, his reactions are absolutely perfect.

 

“John.”

 

“…Dave.”

 

You move in, leaning you head to the side, getting so close to him that there wouldn’t be space for even a finger between your lips. This time you whisper, your breath ghosting over his mouth.

 

“John.”

 

“………Dave.”

 

His reply is delayed, and he looks back and forth from your eyes to you lips. He plays along though, whispering with you.

You move fast, just a peck on his lips and feather light. They you go to his neck, leaning into him and letting your own lips actually brush against the shell of his ear.

 

“John.”

 

“Dave…”

 

He says it like a sigh now. All breathy voice and lingering syllables. You think he might have closed his eyes, and his hands are resting on your hips. He’s not holding you against him, his hands are light, unsure. Now you smile genuinely, because he is so sweet in his inexperience, while still being so beautiful in his own temptation. John always was the gentleman you supposed. You hope you can make him break that habit in bed considering how nice it would be to have him take control over you, dominate you, deny you and then complete you. You want to shiver at the thought but you have something to do right now. You go ahead and tilt your head just enough so that your mouth places small kisses on his collar bone, slowly moving across the skin, always light and innocent.

 

“John…”

 

“D-Dave.”

 

You copy his breathy sound, letting his name fall from your lips like nothing but air, while he stutters. You remove a hand from around his back, using it to cup his cheek. You look at his face, and even as you rub your thumb over his cheekbone his eyes remain closed. He leans into your hand, and you know you’ve made a mistake, because you cant tease him anymore. You can’t continue like a game when he is so dependent on your touch, so pliant for you. Without meaning to, you had sucked yourself into a moment you no longer wanted to end with a playful accomplishment.

You don’t pull back this time, and you let what would have been a tease become affection given. So you tilt his head up more and kiss his neck, no longer feather light, but still soft. He sighs, and he swallows hard. You can see every muscle in his neck and jaw move as he begins to tense and un-tense. You go ahead and let the loose hand behind his head curl in his hair, using it as a new way to tilt his head more, give you more skin. You begin to suck and lick, not using your teeth, not yet. He makes a small noise, and you feel him tense again, see the jaw lock as he tries to take back the sound he made. You let him do it, but you go ahead and begin biting as a small sign to him that no, he cant hide from you anymore, and those sounds are for you.

He inhales sharply when you use your teeth, and when he exhales its shaky, with hints of a held back sound of something. You suck hard, and this time he gives a startled noise, not one of displeasure though. You begin to be very much aware that both of you are slightly hard, and when you feel him twitch under you, you almost moan into his neck.

His fingers press into your hips much harder, his arms almost shaking in an attempt to be still and not too hard on you.

 

“Dave…wait…”

 

You immediately stop. You pull your head back so you can look at him, and you watch his eyes flutter open. His mouth is parted, his breath a little quick. You doubt he wasn’t enjoying it by the image before you.

 

“You ok?”

 

Your own voice comes out a bit shaky, and maybe you were more worked up than you thought. Your hand in still in his hair, the other on his shoulder.

 

“I…I still want this, to do this stuff I mean…but not yet.”

 

You immediately tense, withdrawing the hand from his hair. Had every time he said your name been an attempt to get you to stop? You feel almost nauseous. You had become so used to quick fucks and even quicker departures. And you had moved in on him almost like a one night stand; You had moved in on him when he wasn’t ready. You had invaded his space without him wanting you. You climb off his lap quickly.

 

“Yeah, of course. I shouldn’t have moved so fast. Yeah. It wont happen again I swear.”

 

He looks at you with his big eyes, the guilt clear in them and no he’s not allowed to feel guilty because of what you do.

 

“No, Dave that’s not what I meant.”

 

He tries to pull you closer but you remain firmly on the seat at least 5 inches away from John. Annoyingly, he goes ahead and moves closer to you. When you try to get more room in between both of you, he just follows until you’re siting hip to hip.

 

“Dave, I really don’t want that to never happen again. Did it look like I wasn’t enjoying myself to you?”

 

“Dude, I pushed you-

 

“No, you didn’t. I want you, all the time you know. That’s why I needed you to stop, because it’s hard for me to hold back sometimes, and I didn’t want to jump to certain places that fast.”

 

“I didn’t mean to-

 

“Shush, Dave you didn’t do anything wrong. It was more the opposite actually.”

 

You look over at him and he’s smiling. His cheeks are still flushed, and his hair is messier than usual. You feel a sense of relief as he smiles at you, and when he lifts up his hand you lean forward before it even touches your skin, leaning against his palm.

 

“So…you wanna go out after we deal with tomorrow? Like for dinner?”

 

You watch him carefully, the way he looks at you, slight confusion and then understanding.

 

“You mean…like a date?”

 

“Well yeah, unless you don’t wa-

 

“Yes! Yeah, um I mean, yeah sounds good.”

 

You watch his cheeks flush darkly again, and he looks away, embarrassed. His enthusiasm gives you a burst of happiness, because he wants to go out with you, he really does. You could kiss him, but you remember what he said about not being ready. You’ve already started to lean forward, and when you stop he notices immediately.

 

“What’s wrong?”

 

“No, nothing.”

 

“I thought you were going to kiss me though.”

 

“…yeah but I wasn’t sure…”

 

You trail off, suddenly feeling extremely embarrassed. It was as if you had been walking on a smooth concrete road and suddenly its filled with potholes and huge cracks, everywhere you walk uneven and making you off balance.

So when he moves his hand from your cheek to the back of your head and kisses you, you feel surprised. His kiss isn’t sweet either, his lips push hard against yours, and he even sucks a little at your bottom lip before pulling away.

 

“Just to be clear, the only reason I stopped you before was because I didn’t want to jump your bones on Rose’s couch and have our first time be a few feet and one door away from our other friends. I want our first time to be special, and it will be, and believe me I want it to be soon. By no means are you allowed to stop kissing me, ok?”

 

“…ok.”

 

He gives you another kiss, more gentle this time, and you move with him, no longer taken off guard. When he pulls away you give a pathetic noise, and he giggles.

 

“We can make out later, I want to get us something to eat first. Plus, you’ll have to woo me tomorrow night mister!”

 

You feel a jolt f excitement. You get to take John out tomorrow. On a real date too. You’re already thinking of the places you want to take him, narrowing down the list in your head. The town doesn’t have a lot of fancy places, but you’re aware some exist. And he’s right, you will woo him. You’ll woo the shit out of him.

You’re also pretty damn hungry.

 

“You better stay here though, I don’t think Rose would appreciate you burning her apartment down.”

 

He makes it to the kitchen laughing before the book you throw can hit him.

 


	10. Chapter 10

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Strong people are allowed to have weak moments.

You wake up next to John, curled up around him on the couch, your plates still sitting on the coffee table. John is asleep still, but you hear a sound you became well acquainted with a while back.

 

Rose is going through her post relapse stage. The obvious retching noise from her bathroom could only be from one person.

While you uncurl yourself from John, making sure he continues to sleep, you peek in Rose’s bedroom. Jade is asleep in a chair by the bed still. You decide its better this way. This was your mess to clean up anyways. You owed this to Rose, to help her now, and you owed it to the others to let them sleep easily.

You wait outside the bathroom, waiting for the noise of being sick to stop. You know Rose would feel better getting this first part done without anyone watching. You have to prepare yourself for what’s behind the door, knowing it’s going to be bad.

The toilet flushes, and you continue to wait. After two solid minutes, you knock once, very softly.

 

“Comin in.”

 

It’s just a whisper still, but you know she heard it. You also know she has no way to stop you from entering, and that one of you would be doing this one way or another. How she feels about you being the first person she is greeted with you don’t know.

Rose is sitting on the floor squeezed in between the sink and the toilet, head buried in her knees. The smell of bile is powerful, and she’s shaking hard. You kneel down, taking her in. Her hand twitches violently. You take it, hold it steady.

 

“Leave me to my own forms of misery.”

 

Her voice is quiet and sounds unused, scratchy and extremely hoarse. She still hasn’t looked up.

 

“Not gonna leave you. None of us are.”

 

Now she does look up. Her eyes are still puffy from last night, but fresh tears slide down her face. She looks beyond pale, and there’s sweat beaded on her brow. Her hair clings to it, and where it doesn’t cling it sticks in different directions. You could see her sharp bird bones poking under her skin. Her veins ran like great rivers, impossibly visible under such transparent skin.

 

“Which one are you being exactly?”

 

“Which one of what?”

 

“Are you being my brother, or my friend?”

 

“Dunno. I think I was always both kinda. Which one are you being?”

 

“I don’t know. Which one would you be more inclined to help?”

 

“I’d say both, since you guys have been my only friends since ever and I’d fuckin die for y’all, and I’ve never had a sister but hell if Bro had ever gone through this I wouldn’t be _that_ much of an asshole to leave him.”

 

“Then I suppose I will be both as well.”

 

She coughs violently, her small form shaking too much, and the hand you hold trembling at the effort of her body. Like all addicts, it only takes one dose of the addiction to set off old habits, and the only way to break the addiction it to yet again go through detox. Rose had only drunken a slightly full bottle of old vodka, so it shouldn’t take more than a day to flush the main toxins from her body. You were glad you never really kept your place stocked with any alcohol, otherwise things could have been a lot worse depending on how far Rose would have been wiling to go yesterday.

 

“Water.”

 

You flash step to the kitchen and immediately return to her side. Jade and John are still out cold. You make her take small sips, not wanting to upset her stomach so quickly. She knows this, but you still say it.

 

“Where are your pain relievers? You have some, right?”

 

“Medicine cabinet.”

 

You’re quick to go ahead and grab a few bottles, carefully putting back all the ones that say the word “menstrual” anywhere on them. She takes one of the bottles you hand her and you watch her struggle to open it with her shaking hands, before she gives up, giving a sob of frustration and dropping them. She moves to retch again, but nothing can come out. She is empty, and you can see it in her face when you brush back her short wisps of hair.

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

You gather her in your arms like you’re holding an injured bird, aware of all its panic and desire to get so far away but unable to. She doesn’t want you’re reassurance that she has nothing to apologize for, and if you were to offer it she would only evade your words. She is ashamed, and you will allow her to be ashamed because if she knows you at all, she’ll know you’re just as ashamed of letting it happen.

You hold her, let her lean into you as she cries out her frustration. You grab the bottle and easily pick up two pills, which you physically have to put in her mouth because of her shaking hands. She swallows, sips water, and lies in your arms for a long time. There is a small peace for a while, silence besides her labored breathing and shaking form.

Jade must have woken up and panicked when Rose was gone, because she runs past the bathroom several times before actually seeing you and diving toward both of you and taking Rose from your arms immediately to hug her gently.

 

“Rose-”

 

Her voice breaks in the first word and Jade is crying all over the smaller girl. Rose mumbles things into Jade’s chest, which are shushed by Jade. You feel awkward as they both hug and cry, but like hell are you gonna leave. When John appears at the doorway you’re not surprised since Jade is not a quiet person and had just been running around the whole apartment. He takes in the situation, still fogged from sleep, and is immediately on the floor with everyone. He stroked Rose’s hair, and asks you what she’s already taken. You tell him and he retreats to the kitchen to find anything with ginger and a few crackers. When he returns with cold ginger root tea he makes her drink some, and you get her a cold washcloth.

Hours pass like that, with everyone sitting in the small bathroom, using quiet words and little gestures. You find yourself holding Rose the most, always taking her in your arms when you can, and she always lets you, move into you, holds you back.

You and Rose communicate non-verbally the entire morning. You say sorry, you’re so sorry, so sorry again and again through each touch and she echoes you back with a tighter squeeze of your hand and a returned embrace. She throws up again, she takes more pain relievers, she drinks more ginger tea. Jade gets her in the shower, and she eats light soup John made while she wears a fluffy pink bathrobe that you cant help snickering at. Jade punches you’re arm and Rose snickers back. John “accidentally” leaves a bucket over the closet door that Jade just happens to open and they spend a few hours relentlessly getting each other back. You and Rose silently watch them back and forth, every minute ridiculously entertaining between John’s shitty yet effective pranks and Jade’s ability to throw Rose’s furniture across the room at him. They both made a truce when an antique chair was destroyed and a curtain partially burned.

They both pass out on the couch not five minutes later.

 

You glance at Rose, and are pleased to see she’s no longer shaking, and has regained a little color in her cheeks. She’s still weak as hell, and looks like a mess, but it’s a big improvement. She looks back at you, and you meet her gaze steadily.

 

“David.”

 

“Rosaline.”

 

“Davidathan.”

 

“Rosalinita.”

 

“Davidimorto.”

 

“There’s no way that’s a name anywhere.”

 

“I believe it could have passed in ancient Rome.”

 

“Bullshit.”

 

“Well where is Rosalnita from, pray tell?”

 

“It’s very obviously Spanish. I didn’t know you were so culturally ignorant jesus.”

 

“I beg your forgiveness.”

 

“I’ll think about it.”

 

“But eventually, will you grant me it?”

 

The way her voice lowers, you know what you’re talking about has changed. Her eyes are searching, anxious.

 

“No one here did anything unforgivable. We’re all human after all, except Jade since I’m really starting to think she’s got some kind of alien genetic code that makes her abnormally strong and weird.”

 

You keep it light, but you know she understands you. She nods and looks over at the two sleeping people. They’re both lightly snoring, and Jade is more off the couch than on it by now. She looks like a sleeping dog, her foot even twitching as if she was chasing a squirrel.

 

“I couldn’t help but notice the way John was looking at you. May I ask what exactly happened between you two?”

 

“He was lookin at me?”

 

“Like a lovesick puppy in all honesty.”

 

You smile a little at that, not really caring that Rose is looking at you and you have no glasses to hide your face. There’s no point in hiding anything, and even if you tried she’s find out right away on her own. You’re not trying to hide anything anyways. You’d spend years hiding, and it didn’t work out all that well anyways.

 

“We’re going on a date tomorrow. I’m gonna take him to dinner somewhere nice.”

 

When you look at Rose she’s smiling at you. It’s genuine and sweet, but there’s still a hint of sadness still in her expression. She might be sad for a few reasons, all of which you know about, so you don’t ask. She still seems genuinely happy for you, and that makes you happy.

 

“He loves you so much, Dave.”

 

She says it like she’s known it since birth. Known it for hours and days and years and centuries and is letting the information burst from her words into your ears. The syllables of each word weighs a thousand tons with emotion and it makes the world shake around you. Of course Rose would have know that John loved you like you loved him. Her perception of all things involving you four left no room for error. Her honestly when she shared it was absolute, and her capacity to care so deeply for all of you amazed you every time she showed it.

 

“Where will you be taking him?”

 

And just like that her tone changes. It's easy again, light and politely interested. It's her way of returning to normalcy, asking without specifically wording her desire. You indulge her, because you always do.

 

“Not totally sure yet. Gotta be fancy though. I’m talking cloth napkins and background music, candle lit tables, menus written in cursive, all that shit.”

 

“I would highly suggest The Nightingale. Its pricey, but the service is excellent, and the food is worth it. It’s very small, quite private.”

 

“Sweet. I’ll make reservations.”

 

“Are you just going to tell him to meet you there?”

 

“I mean, yeah? What else would I do.”

 

She makes a tsk tsk noise at you, shaking her head.

 

“Oh Dave, I know you have little experience with gestures of romance, but you must know you can do better than that.”

 

“Uh…I’ll rent a nice car and pick him up? I didn’t think the whole ‘getting to the restaurant’ was the important part here.”

 

“It’s about presentation my dear Strider. A build up to the main event so that every moment is remembered.”

 

“Well fine if you know so much-

 

“Oh don’t worry, I have quite a few ideas.”

 

You give her a look, but she just smiles at you, and slowly clasps her hands together.

You don’t know what you just got yourself into, but you suddenly feel very nervous.

 

 

 


	11. Chapter 11

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> quick John POV moment before the first date. I had to edit the date about 200 times which is why I'm late to update, I swear next chapter is soon

When you wake up with Jade’s foot in your face to see both Dave and Rose looking at you, you immediately feel on edge. Rose is looking like a cat with a mouse between her claws, smug in a dangerous way, while Dave just fidgets, looking way too calm. He looks so pointedly calm that you know for a fact that he is in no way calm. You try to ask what they were talking about, but Rose cuts you off. 

“I’m feeling exceptionally better than this morning, and judging with how late it’s gotten, I think I’m going to send you boys home. Jade’s company will be more than enough.” 

You look at your watch, reading 10:30, and then looking over at Jade.

“Rose, I don’t mean to offend you or Jade, but wasn’t it just you and her the other day? You know…when you were at Dave’s? I just think maybe we should stay the night?”

“There is no offense taken, but Jade had been very hung over then, and I was very upset. We are both in much better condition, and there is nothing in my home to tempt me. I’m going to go to bed very soon, and honestly it would just be easier if Jade was the only one around. I do need my privacy after all.” 

“Ok but let me just-

“How about you wake up Jade for me. Dave, you can assist if necessary, and then you two should be getting to your beds.”

You blink at her, and turn to look at Dave. He remains silent, and just looks over at Jade, avoiding you’re suspicious look. You go ahead and grab Jade’s hand though (how did she fall asleep on the floor?) and place it over her face. When you let go it drops right on her, and she jumps, waking up immediately and blinking around the room. You learned that trick in high school, and its come in handy over the years since it was so hard to wake her up. If you can trick her own body into waking her up it works really well. One time you used her own hand to slap her just to see if you could. It worked but didn’t end well for you. 

“What, what? What is it? What?”

“Chill Harley. Me and Egbert are leaving, you cool to sleep over with Rose?”

“You guys are leaving? Rose are you sure that’s a good idea? I’m not the most reliable person you know…”

“Nonsense Jade. I would trust you with my life any day, besides, the boys need to get some sleep and I only have so much space for rest. I also mentioned to John that I need my privacy, and I’d rather have you help me change and such over either of them.”

“Oh. Ok?”

“So we have reached agreement. John, Dave, I bid you a goodnight.”

“Uh, well if you say so…”

“Night. Let’s go Egbert.”

Dave is over to you, dragging you to the door before you even realize it. You look over your shoulder and Rose gives you a little wave, while Jade goes to her side, still looking pretty tired, but happy with Rose’s progression. You have faith in them both, and you’ll make sure to check on them tomorrow morning. You are pretty tired. Dave is still pulling you by the hand to the bus stop, and you look at him. Is he nervous because he doesn’t trust Rose or Jade? He looks pretty nervous. 

“Dave are you ok?”

“Yeah never better. Why, something wrong?”

“Uh, no I guess not…”

“Cool. Awesome. I’ll drop you off at home and then I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“You don’t need to drop me off Dave, the bus takes me right to my apartment building.”

“I’ll walk you to your door then. Gotta woo you, remember?”

“Oh yeah? Does that mean we’re going out to dinner tomorrow?”

“Hell yeah we are.”

You actually didn’t expect that. 

“Wait, we are? Really?”

“Yeah, is that ok?”

Of course it’s ok! You are so excited you don’t even notice the bus pull up, or that you haven’t even answered Dave. You’re grinning like an idiot. 

“Where do you wanna go then? Should we meet at one of our places or there?”

You wonder if he has a place in mind. Will it be fancy or casual? Shit what should you wear? Oh no you hope it’s not too fancy, you only have one suit and it really sucks!

“I got it all planned. I’ll give you the details tomorrow.”

“Wow, mysterious much?”

“Kinda the point man. First date’s gotta be special and shit, that means I plan all the special shit, and you be wooed.”

You laugh as you both climb on the almost empty bus. That must be what Dave was nervous about. You know you’d be pretty nervous about planning a first date with him, and its sweet that he’s taken it into his own hands. You’ll be sure to woo him back though! Its hard though because you are absolutely so excited. A real date with Dave tomorrow! 

“Do I at least get to know what time I should be ready?”

“Nope. No details til tomorrow.”

“Not even the time?”

“Details. You’ll get them tomorrow.”

You stick your tongue out at him, and he just winks at you. Damn him and his details. Whatever. 

“Oh, did you want your shades back? I know they’re still on my table.”

“Yeah, I should probably get them. Don’t really wanna deal with morning sunlight in all its natural bitchiness.”

You’ll be a little sad to see him put his mask back on, but at the same time it makes things more personal in a weird way. Only you and Rose and Jade can read Dave when he has his poker face on, which means if he does wear them for the date, it’ll be private. Only you’ll be able to tell what he’s feeling or thinking, and that’s pretty special. 

You both get off at your stop, and make your way up to your floor, Dave silent behind you. He must have a lot on his mind if he isn’t yapping away to you. Maybe he really is just super nervous about the date?  
When you open the door Dave makes a quick beeline for his glasses, already returning to you with them places on his face by the time you’ve closed the door again. 

“Alright. See you tomorrow babe.”

You would bitch about that nickname but he swoops in for a kiss. And not the light and quick kind of kiss either. He tilts his head and your glasses clink together, and he even swipes your lips with his tongue. You open up and he’s suddenly everywhere. He nibbles your lip, tastes your mouth, breathes in your air. You’re holding him pretty tightly, feeling absolutely fantastic as he kisses you. You could kiss him like this forever.   
He pulls away, and you try to follow, but he untangles himself from you too quickly, and you’re left with too much space between you. When you open your eyes his cheeks are flushed so adorably it makes you want to squeeze him. 

“Ok. Yeah. Sleep tight and shit. I’ll see ya tomorrow.”

But you don’t want him to go. He grabs the doorknob and you grab his hand. 

“Wait! Uh, I mean…”

What did you mean? You have told Dave just today you had to go slow, couldn’t push yourself because you wanted things to be special. You wanted every moment to be important, every step solid and perfect, not rushed because you couldn’t keep it in your pants. It had been hard earlier, before Rose woke up when he was kissing you like that, literally sitting in your lap. You had wanted to do things to him, things that wouldn’t have been appropriate at all. Especially because it was on your sick friends couch while she was sleeping. 

“I…yeah. I’ll see you tomorrow.

It’s not what you want, but it will be better this way. You feel him squeeze your hand. You wonder if he understands. 

“I love you.”

This time when he moves in you meet him, just a quick kiss, kept light and easy. You smile into it because the words he said mean so much and give you so much.  
When he pulls away you whisper the same thing to him, like the biggest secret in the world. 

“I love you too. Sleep well.”

And then he’s gone. Smiling at you as he goes out the door and closes it behind him. You wait five seconds, then another five before locking the door, a part of you wishing he would come back, begging to stay with you so you would have an excuse. But he doesn’t.  
You run over to the window and wait for him to leave the building. When he does you watch his dark form stop at the bus stop and turn to look at your window. You make an embarrassing noise and duck, even though there’s no way he could see you from there. You still feel embarrassed, and when you peak out the window again he’s getting in a bus, and then he’s gone.   
You feel cold, and very, very alone. You hadn’t been alone for a while, and you hated it. You hadn’t even liked it before all this. You didn’t like to go to public places that much, but being with your friends felt like being whole, and when you weren’t with them you just felt like a missing piece, not all there until you saw one of them again. And now that you were with Dave you felt so full. So totally complete in the weirdest way that you didn’t know how you had done it before without him. How had you even lived before? You feel like you’re breathing for the first time.   
But now you’re alone again, and the air tastes wrong, and sits in your sick lungs badly. Everything is too still, too quiet. It feels wrong, and you hate it. 

You go to sleep feeling cold, and have twisted dreams of death, waking up a few times with a start, checking to make sure you’re still able to breathe.


	12. Chapter 12

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Pre-date dates
> 
> coding persterlogs is a bitch

When you wake up its not to the sound of your alarm or the sun hitting your eyes. It’s the doorbell. You look over at the clock. It’s around 8am, and with a sigh you kick the sheet off and roll out of bed. You wonder if Dave came to give you the detail of the date in person. You wouldn’t put it past him to do something that silly. Or maybe Rose was feeling good enough to come see you? Unless something happened?  
You find yourself rushing to the door, feeling a little fearful and opening the door a bit harshly. To your surprise its no one you know, just a delivery guy. He’s holding a clip board in one hand, and a radio in the other. When he sees you he holds out the clipboard.

“John Egbert, right?”

“Uh, yeah that’s me.”

The man lets you sign as he brings the radio up to his mouth.

“Alright bring em up.”

What?

“Sorry, bring what up? I didn’t order anything?”

“It’s already been paid for, you’re listed as the delivery address and person.”

“Uh, ok and what did I just sign for?”

“Not sure. We just deliver the stuff, we don’t look in it.”

“Oh, right. Sorry.”

You hand the signed paper back to him with the clipboard. He takes it and moves back, adding a strange amount of space between him and your door. You don’t understand, but then there’s a large cart being pushed right towards you, and you scramble to get out of the way. Even more surprising is that it doesn’t stop there. Three men push enormous boxes into your small sitting room, taking up all the space you have. You watch from the safety of your kitchen as they unload the stuff. The man with the clipboard orders them to open up the boxes then, which is weird because he just said he didn’t know what was in there?  
You’re bombarded by the sweet smell of flowers, and look over to the fist box opened, revealing red roses overflowing onto your floor. It’s more petals than flowers really, and when the guys begin literally dumping the shit in your home all you can do is stand there and watch.  
Who the absolute fuck ordered you piles of rose petals? Who would pay for-

Your phone rings from your room. Since the men seems occupied with dumping even more petals and rose buds everywhere you retreat to the bedroom to grab your cell phone. It alerts you of a few missed pesters.

\--turntechGodhead [TG] began pestering ectoBiologist [EB] at 7:12--

TG: welcome to the beginning of your official date with a one Dave Strider.  
TG: please keep your hands and feet inside the vehicle at all times  
TG: it got there right  
TG: they weren’t late were they  
TG: lazy bastards 

ectoBiologist [EB] has joined the chat!

EB: Are you fucking serious? It was you?!?  
EB: You sent me a fuckload of rose petals at 8 in the morning? You don’t even get up before noon!  
TG: oh so they came good  
TG: there’s something in one of the piles by now youre gonna have to go find it  
TG: have fun

\--turntechGodhead [TG] ceased pestering ectobiologist [EB] at 7:26--

EB: HEY NO WAIT!!!!  
EB: DAVE!!!!  
EB: I KNOW YOU CAN SEE THIS!!!!  
EB: GET BACK HERE!!!!!!!  
EB: STRIIIIIDDEERRR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

 

You chuck your phone on your bed, dashing back to the living room. They’re still pouring our fucking petals and shit, and you officially can’t see the floor. The exit of your apartment is also completely blocked by the enormous piles everywhere. You can barely see the guys still bringing in more crates.

“Hey! Just curious, but how many more boxes are there?”

“About five more.”

“Uh, you know you really don’t-

“We’re under order to deliver all of this. Don’t worry, its been paid for.”

“Uh, shit. Ok I guess. Shit.”

You watch for a couple more agonizing minutes as the pile becomes hill sized and begins to drown your furniture. You have to run around, grabbing all the stuff you don’t want to be buried before it’s too late. You wade through the flower bullshit like water, and you would be tempted to jump into one of the smaller piles if you weren’t so confused and kinda pissed. You are curious though about something being hidden in them, although since its not visible now you can only guess its small, which is yet another incredible pain in the ass.  
You sit on your couch, waiting as the piles increase and then topple, covering even more of your home in petals. There are a few bloomed flowers in the pile as well as the other rose buds, but mostly it’s just a whole shitload of petals. Where they scatter in little piles around your feet you think it could almost pass for blood. But then you pick one up and it’s softer than silk, cool to the touch even. You close you eyes and just casually feel up the rose petal, letting it calm you down.

“Alright, that’s the last of ‘em.”

Oh thank god.

“Ok, thank you!”

They close the door for you, and you really don’t know how you would have gotten to it anyways. You can’t see most of the door.  
You do take the opportunity of solitude to go ahead and flop onto one of the piles because technically its your pile and you can do whatever you want because you a mature adult. It’s actually pretty amazing, and immediately you burry your face in the stuff, getting your body to sink deeper into the softness.  
There’s something poking your ankle though, and you really hope it’s not a thorn. If there are thorns in this pile Dave is a dead man.  
When you get up and reach for it, you find it’s just an envelope. You guess this is what Dave was talking about, and you’re a bit put down since it’s really nothing compared to all the damn rose petals.  
You go ahead and tear it open though, and there’s only a tiny piece of paper inside. It reads an address and a time. The time reads 10:00am, while the address is unfamiliar to you.  
You move to your computer and Google the address, only to find it’s a local tailor. It doesn’t have a website or any pictures, so you guess its very small. You guess this just means Dave wants you to go buy a suit? You’re ok with that since you need one, you just wonder what exactly its for. You had thought a simple dinner, but now it could be anything judging from the roses. You check the time. Its already close to 9, so you grab your toothbrush and begin preparing for who knows what.

~

The tailor shop looks old and pretty fancy. Not really what you were expecting since it seemed there was so little information about it. You were right about the size though, its pretty small, but the inside is kept spacious and comfortable somehow.

“Hello sir, do you have an appointment?”

You nearly jump out of you skin, not having noticed the older man suddenly appear by your side.

“Uh, actually I’m not sure…sorry. I don’t think so?”

“Name?”

“Oh, John Egbert?”

“Ah yes, out 10 o’clock appointment. Right this way.”

You follow him silently to a more private area with large mirrors and velvet covered floors. He looks at you like he’s waiting for something.

“Ok, so…I didn’t make the appointment, so I’m not really sure what I should be doing here? I would guess a guy named Dave Strider called, but he has all the information.”

The man nods, then pulls out a slip of paper just like the one you have found in the envelope before.

“Mr. Strider gave clear instructions to take in your measurements so we can have something for you by later today. Everything has been paid in advance, and after we are finished here I was told to give you this.”

He hands you the paper and you take it, unfolding it to reveal yet another mystery address, the time marked to be 1:00. When you look back up at the man, he has a tape measure ready.

“I’ll need you to remove your clothing to get a proper measurement. I will warn you this might take a bit of time, as we’ll need to get everything exact in order to have the perfect article ready so soon.”

You guess you don’t have much of a choice. You go ahead and strip down to your boxers and socks, really hoping there wouldn’t be any reason to remove the boxers. There isn’t, and you spend about a full hour standing stock still as measurements are taken again and again in every possible area. You are thrown different articles of clothing of various sizes, all of which you try on while the man circles you, inspecting how each shirt or jacket or pair or pants fits you. They all seem like they fit to you, but the man makes unsatisfied faces after looking you over. He writes a lot of things down too. By the end of it you feel pretty self conscious and a bit stiff from standing in the same pose for so long. He tells you to come back at 5pm, and to already be cleaned up for the rest of the evening, as the clothes will go on then, and stay on. When you thank him and the ask if he knows the address written down, he tells you its actually a private park, and that you can only enter by invitation. You get confused by that because seriously who has a private park and why are you going there anyways?  
You leave, making your way to the area thanks to your phones GPS.

~

“Hello, and welcome to Deerwood Gardens. Are you here to meet someone or to visit?”

“I’m not actually sure…I would guess visit?”

The woman behind the little glass window sniffs at you, obviously not impressed by your answer.

“Name?”

“John Egbert.”

“It seems you have someone waiting for you inside already. Go right ahead.”

Now that surprises you. You didn’t think you would see Dave until later tonight, and he hasn’t answered a single one of your pesters, texts, or calls. You tried reaching both girls, but Jade just texted you that it was a super secret operation and you’d find out soon enough! Rose had simple said that her lips were sealed on the matter. You guess this is where Dave will be giving you the “details” on the actual date, and you want to hug him, punch him, and kiss him all at once. His gestures have been both annoying and adorable, and you know they couldn’t have been cheap. You don’t even know how he got you into the fancy garden place, since you hadn’t even heard of it before.

“John! Over here!”

You turn your head and immediately see Jade, jumping up and down in a white sundress. Her hair is pulled back in a ponytail, and if she wasn’t jumping like a five year old you would think she was some rich girl about to attend a tea party. You do wonder why on earth she’s there though. Where’s Dave? Does this mean Rose is here too?

“Get your butt over here I’m starving!!”

You’re stomach growls in agreement. You only had time to grab some coffee and toast this morning, and that was already 5 hours ago. You jog over to Jade, who envelopes you in a bone crushing hug. She looks beautiful, the white of her dress highlighting her dark smooth skin and hair, while her bright green eyes sparkle with excitement.

“Jade! What are you doing here? Actually what am I doing here? Do you know what’s going on at all because I have questions!”

Jade just giggles and takes your hand, leading you through one of the many garden paths. You feel pretty underdressed now compared to Jade.

“Just relax John! You’re here for lunch and my amazing company, and have you SEEN these flowers? I didn’t even know some of these still existed! And how are they keeping some of these alive in this soil?!”

You can practically see the waves of envy and amazement battling each other above Jade, like she’s trying to decide which one she feels more.

“Are Dave and Rose here too? Did Dave tell you what-

“Shhhhh!!! Secrets John, all secrets! But I promise you’ll love them all, I mean you liked the first two right? And I’m the third, so it’s not like any of them are bad right?”

“I don’t know about the first two! Not sure how much you know, but I cant walk in my apartment without wading through a bunch of petals! And why did I get measured for a suit?”

“You mean you didn’t like the flower petals? But that was mostly my idea…I thought it was really romantic!”

Shit you really don’t want to make Jade upset, and ok the petals were romantic in theory, just in a smaller dose maybe.

“No! I mean the petals are great, and I even chilled in a pile of some this morning, it was awesome. So we’re having lunch here?”

Smooth change. You give yourself an invisible high five.

“Yeah! This place is apparently crazy fancy, and private! There’s basically no one around and we have this absurd amount of butlers-

“Butlers?”

“Or fancy waiters, not sure. They wear tuxedos! Tuxedos John! To work! Here!”

As you both emerge into a little clearing you spot a white table with tea, both hot and cold, along with at least 6 well dressed men holding silver covered platters. Did Dave really arrange all this for you?

“Come on come on food, John! Food!”

“Geez calm down! How long have you been waiting?”

“Like a whole 10 minutes come ooonnnnnn!”

She all but shoves you in your chair, a man already moving forward to help push your chair in, while another does the same for Jade. Two new glasses are placed on the table and ice water is poured along with silverware placed. You don’t even get a word in before the platters are all placed on the table and uncovered.  
You mouth waters at the sight and the smell. All sorts of options are placed before you, both hot and cold dishes, common and delicacy, sweet and savory. Jade is already gabbing a soft shelled crab and a gorgeous looking fillet, and you begin choosing as well, knowing that the girl sitting across from you could easily consume everything. Jade makes happy noises at every bite, and eventually the waiters disappear, leaving you both alone to enjoy the meal. You taste a little of everything, and you decide you absolutely love Dave ten times more because holy shit you didn’t know fish could taste so good.

“So, not so bad for the first date, huh?”

You look at Jade, who is talking while she continues to eat some kind of meat you don’t recognize.

“Technically this isn’t the date since the guy I’m dating isn’t even here, but yeah, this is really fucking awesome.”

“Just wait for tonight! And sorry we’ve all been ignoring your calls, but you know, secrets! Dave stayed up hours last night talking to Rose and I, he was all ‘everything has to be perfect or I’ll die and haunt you forever’. I think I fell asleep though because when I woke up Rose said everything was taken care of and that Dave had planned this and that and yeah! A lot of the planning was last minute, and I don’t know how Dave arranged most of this on short notice, although I think Rose helped a lot.”

She has to stop her rapid fire speech to actually chew her food, and you begin to slow your eating, taking in the space around you. The area reminds you of all the descriptions placed on the garden of Eden, with its raw perfection. You can’t hear another human being, and the cars have been silenced. You feel a world away from Washington. The air even feels warmer.  
You and Jade talk for a bit, and she laughs when you almost fall out of your chair as one of the waiters appears way too quickly and soundlessly to take your empty plates away. Another is there to pour coffee and more tea, and still another to place sugar and cream. There are even deserts there that you don’t remember anyone putting down. Jade takes little bites of cake, while you nibble on fruit. There’s even a vanilla milkshake for you, which Dave must have requested because it seems out of place with the small pastries and it’s your favorite. Jade giggles as you drink it with way more enthusiasm than you should. You just think about how sweet the guy you love is.  
Because it is sweet. Where the rose petals were like an overly dramatic jokes to show how much he cares, and the suit as a gift he knew you needed, the lunch with Jade that he is giving you is more than you could have hoped for. He must have spent an enormous amount of money for this kind of service, for this small paradise with someone you consider a sister. What he did that you really needed, and maybe he doesn’t even know he did it, was that he made Jade happy again. She wasn’t thinking about your cancer right now, or how you wont be able to have lunch with her ever again soon, all she’s thinking about is the amazing food and the incredible flora. She glows with the light of her normal self, radiant in her natural joy that fits her in a way nothing else does. Her cheeks resonate good health and spirit, and every time she looks at you there’s no pity, no sadness, no pain. There’s just Jade in her innocent happiness, and you will never be able to convey how amazing it was for Dave to give you that.  
Even though your body is losing a tremendous battle inside you, you still have the ability to hide it. You know that when the time comes that you cannot, every cough, every fidget, every yawn will be met with worried faces and questions hanging on lips. This is one of the last normal moments, and again, it was Dave who made it special.

~

When you leave Jade after quite a few hugs and her assurance that Rose is 500 times better, you’re a little relieved she gave you another paper with just your address on it. She specified that Dave had thought ahead and decided to give you time to rest before the final fitting at the tailors and the actual date part. You have 2 hours to be lazy and groom yourself, and the tailors wasn’t even that far away from your place. When you get home (after flopping down in the petals and making a petal snow angel) you intend to take a quick nap, but sleep doesn’t come. It’s been harder and harder to sleep lately, but right now you can’t sleep because of excitement. You really want to see Dave. You want to hold him like you couldn’t last night and feed him all your feelings of thankfulness and joy.  
You let your TV play HBO movies while you just wander around your place, unable to decide what, if anything, you could do about the petals. Unable to come up with anything you brush your teeth a hundred times and jump in the shower. You scrub yourself from head to toe, re-shave your face, and attempt to style your hair. You manage to flatten it a bit, and then you put on some cologne Rose gave you last Christmas. You even polish your glasses. You put on very simple clothes, knowing you’ll be changing out of them shortly, and spend at least 20 minutes looking at yourself in the mirror. No matter what attempt you make, you don’t look any different from usual. You still feel like a goofy looking guy with messy hair and old glasses with thick frames. You sigh, but don’t dwell on it. You could be worse, you think. You could still be small and skinny as hell from your earlier days. You’re overbite doesn’t show as prominently as it used to.  
You leave your apartment early because you have nothing else to do, and head to the tailors. There are still just a few people out since its not yet 5 so everyone is still working. When you enter the shop again you don’t jump when the same man appears, smiling as he immediately leads you to the back. This time there is another man, younger, but holding an air of refined grace and sophistication. He hands the older man different clothing items as you strip again, moving your clothes to one side and your nice dress shoes to the other. You put on your new pants, but that’s about all you’re allowed to do. The two men work together in putting the white collared shit on, buttoning and tucking everything, adding a waistcoat with blue trim, a jacket, placing cuff links, and at some point you realize you’re actually in something a bit nicer than just a suit. It’s on the verge of a tuxedo even. You’re even given your shoes to step into as they are retied and did they polish your shoes while you weren’t looking? The final item is a bowtie, sleek and black. You hold your neck up so it can be tied, and with a few more adjustments, careful observing, and notes, the two men smile, and direct you to turn to the mirror.  
The man that looks back at you isn’t the guy with messy hair and old glasses with thick frames anymore. You see yourself, but the reflection is so different, so unusual, it can’t be yourself. You stand tall, and strong. The jacket shows your broad shoulders, the blue trim accents your eyes. The pants make you look even taller than usual, and you’ve never in all your life felt so handsome. You feel good, and powerful and so important for no reason. When the man in the reflection smiles, you feel it. you’re hair doesn’t even look messy anymore, it looks windswept. Purposeful even. You turn to the two men, watching you expectantly.

“Thank you. Just, yeah. Thank you.”

You don’t have to say anything else. You can tell they understand. You wonder how many other men have found themselves where you are, standing with the feeling of possibility and self confidence. You feel like something new, and you feel happy.

You are soon ushered to the door, where you find a car waiting for you. Its black and sleek and the seats are much nicer than a taxi. You have your phone and your wallet with you, and the older man at the tailor said he would be sending your clothes to your home address, washed and pressed. You ask the driver where you’re going, and he mentions the name of a restaurant you’ve heard of, but never eaten at. Thinking to yourself, you decide that no, you don’t want to go straight there, you want to make a stop first. On the tip of your lips but the back of your mind it had been there, the doubt of something enormous, crushing you. So you tell the driver. When you make the request, the he doesn’t seem to have any problem with it.  
You pull up to Rose’s building, immediately knowing you made the right decision. Even if Dave has to wait, you need one last solidarity of just one answer, even after everything that day.

You need to know that you can do this, because this is the last chance you have to back out. You could spare Dave the pain of being so close to you and watching you fall and break and die. You could deliver the blow before it can be fatal, and you could cut off your ties to him romantically. You could face this with your friends, not alone, but still distant. You could walk away and leave a mess now, instead of a disaster later.  
Or could you? Could you even stop now if you tried? Are you really capable of cutting off such an important part of your life? But if Dave would turn out better because of it, how could you not? If you could do anything to lessen the blow, wouldn’t you do it?  
The elevator takes you straight to her room, and you don’t even remember getting in it. When the doors open and you’re faced with Rose’s apartment door, you don’t know what to do. Rose has her own problems, so why are you bothering her about your own?  
But you still stand there. As the doors to the elevator slide shut you open them again, and again, and again. You think about Dave, how he’s probably waiting for you, and you make the decision. You knock. Only once, only slightly, because somehow you get the feeling Rose is listening for you.  
When she opens the door she doesn’t seem surprised that its you, but she does gasp. She looks at you with bright eyes, taking in your appearance, and you stand tall because you know she is not looking at you with judgment, but with pleasure and true pride.

“John…you look so wonderful.”

She smiles at you, her eyes crinkling and dimples showing. You smile back, because she looks so damn proud of you for some reason and you like it. You want to make her proud to be your friend, proud that you are HER friend. She pulls you gently from the elevator, still just looking at you.

“I always knew you were easy to love John, but tonight you will make everyone fall in love with you. Dave absolutely wont know what to do with himself.”

Her words are so kind you want to cry. She sounds like the mother you never had, and its makes you so, so grateful to have her with you.

“Thanks Rose.”

You’re voice is wobbly and sounds thick, and she knows. She knows you’re worried and scared and you feel weak standing before her, because she must be judging you now.

“John, why are you here?”

Such gentle words you don’t deserve. There is a hand on your cheek that you didn’t earn, you don’t have the right. When she pulls you down so your head rests on her small shoulder you feel like you are betraying her because no this is wrong she should be mean and hurtful and she is too kind for you.

“Is this the right thing to be doing, Rose?”

You’re voice is like a child’s. It is small and pitiful sounding. Where Rose has the ability to act as a mother in her wisdom and maturity, you can only fall behind into the role of a misbehaved little boy, stupid, and lost.

“Whatever makes you happy is the right thing John. It only makes it more right because what you’re going to do will make Dave happy too.”

“It will hurt him, in the long run. I will have hurt him more if I do this.”

“I cant lie to you and say that it wont hurt him more in the long run, but I know that if you end things now because of that, you’ll be hurting him more than you ever could in any other situation.”

“Does that make it right though?”

She hesitates to answer, and your scared because this could be it. If she tells you that things will be easier if you shed the idea of dating, or being with Dave, then you know you will. Because Rose would die before the wellness of Dave was put aside for something else. Even you.

“Love is always right. And Dave will never prove that wrong.”

You can feel the tears well up in your eyes, but you blink them away, because you don’t want to go to Dave and have him see traces of a sadness he shouldn’t know about. And you will go to him now. Whatever you were looking for in talking to Rose, you found it. Maybe all you really needed was for someone to tell you what you wanted to hear, or maybe you needed the comfort of a friend in your moment of doubt. Either way, when you pull away from Rose you kiss her forehead, and thank her with a smile. She smiles at you, and doesn’t rush you or push you to leave.  
Neither of you say goodbye as the elevator door closes, and the smile you gave her stay on our face even as you re-enter the car. As it moves, you find yourself still scared, still sad and nervous, but by no means regretful or doubtful.

By the time you reach the restaurant you don’t observe the architecture or the well-dressed staff. You tell your name softly to the stewardess, but you don’t really look at her. You follow her but only in direction, because you are waiting for the only thing you both need and want. The world around you falls silent and is tinted black and white as you wait.  
And then you see him. He’s sitting in a very large booth and he’s looking at his watch. He’s fidgeting frowning and his hair is a little more perfect than it usually is. His waistcoat is red, and his glasses are present. When he looks up he almost looks back down, not seeing you, but then he does and he stands so fast he may have scared the waiters around him. He is gorgeous and clearly nervous as well as relieved. Slender but not skinny, fit but not overly buff, fair skinned but not eerily pale. You smile wider, because you were already smiling before, and he grins.

The world isn’t silent and black and white to you anymore, because your entire world is standing right before you, and he is vivid and bright and fantastic.

 

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> holy shit its the actual date   
> also every time i look at the comments i loose my shit everyone is way too kind

When you see him, he is extraordinary. When you actually look at him, he is magnificent. When you observe him, he is dazzling. And when he smiles, he is perfect.   
There were people you slept with that were attractive. Some were hot, some were sexy, some were beautiful, some were cute. You knew John was all those and more, you did, but now you are seeing a man that simple words like ‘handsome’ aren’t good enough for. You want to stare at him for hours, you want to kiss his fingers, knuckles, palms, and whisper incredibly dirty things in his ear. You want to remove everything on him with your teeth. You want to stand and circle him for years. You want to paint him in to your mind, and kiss him for days. You want to do everything and nothing to and with him. 

“You look really good.”

The words are so inadequate you almost flinch. But he blushes, and you think he understands that you just can’t really get the right words out. 

“Not so bad yourself, and it’s really great to finally see you after all the romancing today.”

Now it’s your turn to blush. You had been so worried about everything the whole day. You had spent the entire time with Rose, worrying about small details and using Jade to spy on John’s reactions. You had gotten ready for the dinner a full hour early and paced around Rose in silence, your anxiety almost palpable. She had finally threatened to strangle you with her latest knitting project if you didn’t stop and calm the fuck down. When you sat down and tried to collect yourself you ended up tapping your foot for a good five minutes before Rose did kick you out of her place, telling you to go harass waiters and wait for John instead of driving her crazy.   
You had followed her directions and gotten there pretty early, making one of the poor waiters listen to weird and deeply disturbing stories of your childhood (beause being a dick passes time and you’re good at it) until you realized you were still anxious. You let the traumatized waiter run away, and occupied your time drilling Jade for any detail you might have missed on John’s reactions to the days events. Like Rose, she had told you to calm down and stop worrying over stupid little things, that John had looked really happy and pleased etc. as the time grew closer and closer to the expected meeting time you had an increased desire to cut something up with a sword or destroy a puppet. Anything really.   
And then when he was late you thought your worst fears had come true and he had hated everything and he wasn’t going to come.   
But then he was there. Standing before you like the only thing in the world, looking like a damn model or an Italian marble carving come to life. Words like ‘handsome’ became so underwhelming and inadequate for how he appeared that you failed to come up with anything even remotely accurate.   
He slid into the booth next to you, keeping a respectable distance away, smiling broadly at you. You were so tempted to devour him right then, but you remembered John’s words from the other night. You remember how just last night you had wanted so badly to stay with him, but he hadn’t invited you, and you weren’t going to push him. This was something John would be controlling, not you. He had to make the first move before you initiated anything.   
To keep yourself from staring you snapped your fingers, brining another waiter to you side where you told him to bring out the appetizers and wine. John raised an eyebrow at you, but you ignored it. You wanted to look cool and in control.   
You were tempted to gulp down the wine to ease your nerves, but you had spent a shit load on the one bottle, and the wine had been meant for taste and savoring, not getting drunk. You had made sure of that, since you didn’t want the night to be ruined by slurred words and unclear decisions. John took a sip and you watched as the dark liquid colored his lips a little, and how he looked at you over the glass, blue eyes shinning in the dim light over the burgundy liquid. You wondered if he was tempting you on purpose. 

“So tell me, who came up with the petal idea, you or Jade?”

Damn Harley and her big mouth. 

“You hurt me John. Assuming that I wouldn’t have come up with something so original on my own? Not cool.”

“Alright, alright. So I guess you can help me clean up the mounds of decaying flowers as they turn brown and start to smell?”

“You know I warned Harley about that but she made the call anyways so it was out of my control by then.”

“Uh huh. Sure. And what about the garden and the tailor? How did you manage all that? Did Rose know the tailor? Did she have some New York author friend pull strings to get us in the private garden place?”

“What the hell did Jade tell you, that I didn’t do anything? I’ll have you know I planned the shit out of everything, even if I did use some of Rose’s connections. Remember how early I got up Egbert? I was awake at fucking 7am for your ass.”

“Figured you used Rose and all her secret writing friends! But seriously, I know how much work you must have done, and today was, just, incredible. I mean really, thank you.”

His last words were so genuine and sweet it caught you off guard. You really hoped you weren’t blushing too badly. 

“Yeah, whatever. Wasn’t too hard, just had to make a few calls, do a little bribing. No big deal.”

“But it was a big deal! Dave I don’t know how you pulled it off today, because Jesus you did so MUCH for me. You made everything so perfect it was ridiculous. Do you know what would have happened if I had tried to plan this? Nothing. Nothing would have happened because I would have done something stupid and messed everything up.”

“Ok that’s not true because the girls did help a lot and I’ve seen you plan entire birthday parties over night.”

“Its easy to do something quick when you don’t pay attention to detail, but in this case since everything is so important I would have done something dumb in the first second.”

“That’s bullshit, you put a ton of effort into those parties, and I never even knew the kids you did half of em for.”

“I did them to make my high school friends feel special. But with you, everything is already so special and amazing, it’s hard to give you something new that really lets you know how much I care about you. But you did that today and it was insane and incr-

You don’t let him finish, choosing instead to pull him into you. You give him just a fleeting kiss, gentle and short but lingering at the end as you pull away. He follows you a little and catches himself, blushing fiercely. 

“God you’re adorable.”

He flushes even more, sputtering objections and not meeting your eyes. He looks completely flustered and you love it. He decides to grab the first thing on the table and put it in his mouth, what was that, cheese? It seems to distract him enough from his embarrassment because he looks down at what he’s eating, giving it a curious but appraising look. You chuckle and ignore his glare, choosing instead to begin eating random bits of different dishes, watching his the whole time to catch every reaction.   
When you both finish picking at the appetizers you call over the waiter again to bring the main course out. You had decided that as long as you were gonna be fancy and shit, you’d order something classic and ironic. So when the waiter comes back with two lobster plates you just smirk as John raises a knowing eyebrow at you. He knows you well enough to guess it’s a bit of a joke to you, but it doesn’t bother him at all.   
Like the two grown adults you both are, you take up your lobsters like action figures and proceed to engage in a dramatic battle of Red Death vs. Clawstastic, only ending when your sweet, sweet Red Death looses a claw, forcing him out of the fight. You demand John cover the cost of a prosthetic, but he’s too busy trying to breath through laughing so hard.   
Eventually you honor the fallen warrior by eating him, and John cracks into his winning fighter as well. As tempted as you are to flick some of the lettuce at him you would feel like you’re committed a damn crime to do anything to alter the perfection of John in his suit. While he continues to pick at the lobster, you openly stare, admiring everything that he is. When he licks at his fingers you help him out, feeling ecstatic at the freedom to do so, watching him as his eyes go wide and he blushes as you outright suck on his fingers. He swats you away after a little, but you just smirk as he flushes. He hastily begins commenting on little things about the restaurant and you lean on your palm, smiling a little and very clearly watching him, which only adds to his already reddened face. 

“So any after dinner plans or what? I couldn’t get anything out of Jade which was surprising since, duh, its Jade, but Rose wouldn’t slip anything either so, um, yeah?” 

You lean forward even more, invading his space and watching as he nervously avoids your eyes for a bit. He even pulls at his collar a little, and it’s as hilarious as it is precious. 

“Oh wouldn’t you like to know.”

You tilt your shades down just enough for him to catch your little wink. It’s silly enough that he giggles, but his flush is still perfectly present. 

“So I don’t get to know?”

“Hell no.”

“What about a hint?”

“Hell no times two.”

“Please?”

“Hell no times fuckin three.”

“Pllleeaaaasssseee?”

“What are you, five?”

“Does that make you a pedophile?”

“Only for you.” 

He laughs, and you signal for the check, which you throw your card in before John can say anything because no way in hell is he gonna suggest any of that “oh wait let me” bullshit when YOU are taking HIM out. You swiftly stand, and offer your hand, ready for the final part of your planned evening. John takes you hand, smiling at you with a curious quirk of the brows. You don’t budge from before though, and you refuse to tell him where you’ll be going.   
Outside the car you arranged to be waiting for you sits, the driver immediately rushing into his seat at the sight of you. You open the door for John, before flashing over to the other side and getting in, nodding to the driver who was waiting for your cue. 

“I hope we’re not just going back home, I kinda wanted to walk outside. Its such a nice night.” 

“We’re not going home, come on what’s special about that?”

“Heh, yeah I guess not, so we’re not going home…”

“No guesses.”

“Oh come on!”

“Nope. This is a surprise dude. Oh and you’ll be wearing a blindfold by the way.”

“Seriously? Do I have to?”

“Yes now quit wining I’m trying to romance your ass.”

“Bluhhhh fine.”

You give him a quick kiss on the cheek before you whip out the little bit of fabric in your pocket. He’s about to protest again but you yank his glasses away and slip it on easily, and he just kind of freezes. 

“I can’t see anything.”

“Holy shit really no way.”

“Oh shut up I just meant, its really, really dark and it caught me off guard!”

“If it makes you too uncomfortable you can just leave your glasses off. But that’s the best offer you’re getting.”

“No, its fine. Just make sure I don’t trip and die though.”

“Got it.”

The remainder of the ride is in comfortable silence. John holds your hand, like a physical sign of how he is putting his trust in you. He leans on you a little, his breathing slow and easy. Your own heart hammers in your chest, the blood pumping so fast through your veins you almost feel like he should be leading you out of the car when it stops. You bring him out, looking up at the tall building before you. As you enter the main entrance the doorman nods to you in respect, thankfully silent. The change in temperature from the cool night air to the heated room is easily noticeable. There are only a few people in the lobby, and you take him over to the elevator easily. He remains silent, occasionally tilting his head at a sound, trying to pick something up. You heart continues to hammer away.   
The door dings as it reaches the top floor of the grand hotel. Your destination is not a room however, but the balcony that you could only hope was empty, as you couldn’t reserve it.   
When the wind hits you from the high open area you feel John look around, as if blindly moving his head will help him understand. Before you untie his blindfold you go ahead and remove your own shades after making sure no one was around. You know he’ll appreciate the small gesture, so you tuck them inside your suit, and untie the cloth around John’s eyes. 

You watch him blink, taking in his surrounding. You hold his chin gently as you slip on his glasses. His large blue eyes focus in on your face and he smiles at your eyes. You silently gesture to the view before you, and he turns, the smile leaving his face as his eyes widen and mouth parts slightly.   
The view of Seattle presents itself to you, the stars flickering above you, closer than the other buildings that would normally tower over your heads, but now stand small compared to your own height. Cars move like ants below, the sounds lost and the wind gently tousling your hair. John squeezes your hand, and you squeeze back, not ready to say anything.   
You both stand there for minutes, seconds ticking away as you let him take in the view, and you watch him from the corner of your eyes. His eyes turn to everything scattered in front of him, and you can see him exhale as though he had been holding his breath. 

“Consider myself romanced.” 

He whispered it, not yet looking at you, but it’s enough to make you smile easily. He likes it, just like you hoped he would. When his eyes tilt up and he changes his view to the stars, you turn to really look at him.   
Even though its dark, the moon is bright and his black hair reflects the light while his eyes catch and absorb it. His entire being looks soft, and when he breathes deeply you can almost see how the air around him reacts. He closes his eyes and you turn to him completely. He sways just slightly with the rush of wind, and it’s like its reaching out to him, brushing him with the invisible currents. You turn now to look up, admiring how the stars present clearly for your unshielded eyes, calmly twinkling so far away. The stars used to make you feel small, but right now, you feel enormous, as though you could reach up and grasp any of them. And it wouldn’t even matter if you could or couldn’t, because you would rather stay firmly planted on your feet with your hand in John’s. There are universes above you exploding and being created, and it doesn’t even matter to you.   
His hand touches your face, causing you to start, but he either doesn’t notice or care as he moves in and kisses you. His other hand moves to your opposite cheek, and he hold you steady as he moves his lips, directing you with his own movements. You immediately move to hold him, your eyes already shut. He pushes and pulls, taking and giving while you allow him to do anything. When he pulls away you would protest if you weren’t desperately trying to catch your breath. His hands still rest on you cheeks, his forehead just barely touching yours. When you open his eyes, he’s looking at you in a way that would be torturous if you weren’t able to stand so close. You swallow, and speak. 

“Will you stay with me tonight?”

He doesn’t hesitate. 

“Yeah. I’d really like that.”

You want to ask if he’s be ok with you moving forward like this. You want to know if he knows what you mean. You want to know if he really would like that. But he kisses you again and you forget how to think, and the way he envelops you, you wonder if he was actually the one to suggest staying with you. 

“You’re place or mine?”

He keeps kissing you through his words, and you smile a little because he does understand, the implication his words give you confidence. And then you smile wider because you remember something. 

“How about the room below us?”

He leans away just enough for you to pull out the card key from your back pocket, and though he seems a bit surprised, he grins at you, pulling you back into a kiss before leading you back to the elevator, kissing up and down your neck as it moves too slowly and your skin burns too hotly.


	14. Chapter 14

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> finally.

When you both reach the door you make Dave work to unlock it, pressing up against him, crushing him to the door in a way he clearly enjoys based on the moan he slips into your mouth. He fumbles, and you think he might just give up in order to push back into you, but then he’s turning the handle and you both stumble in. now your own back hits the closed door, and he throws the key somewhere on the floor. He grips you hair, not pulling, just flexing his hand around your locks, almost shaking as though unsure what to do but desperate to do something. You wish you could give him direction but you cant. You are reminded that though you’ve been helping to lead him up to this point, you are not the one with experience or knowledge anymore. You’ve had sex before with the few girls you dated, but you only know so much about what you’re really doing. All you know is that you feel like every point of your skin has become ten times more sensitive while also going numb, and the clothes on your back feel heavy and useless. Dave is continuing to take control, and you’re grateful one of you knows what you’re doing. It isn’t that hard to figure out based on instinct though. You want to be everywhere on him, but its getting harder and harder to breathe as you both pant into each others mouths. You yank his hair harder now, hoping it wasn’t too much as you attack his neck, feeling the way he shivers against you, holds you closer, squeezes you harder. 

“John, ah, the bed, John please.”

He sounds close to begging and you feel a shiver of your own run down your spine. You want him so badly, you want him now, now. You bite at his neck, leaving marks you know will last and you move your hips just enough to get the friction you really want, while at the same time moving him back a little. You may be the one with you’re back to the door, but you realize you have taken the position of power once again, a position you didn’t realize you could be in.   
When you move your hips he chokes on air and you moan openly into his skin. You didn’t think it would feel so good just to move like that and god you want to do it again, you do, but Dave had a point with the bed thing.   
You push him back, just a little, letting him know that its time to move places, and you have no idea the set up for the room. You honestly couldn’t give a flying fuck but where the hell is the bed? You think Dave gets the idea because he detaches himself from you enough to pull you in a direction. You hadn’t even noticed you’re eyes were closed until you had to open them to keep yourself from falling. You stumble after Dave. You literally do stumble, moving very ungracefully over the carpet, and deciding that since clothes aren’t staying on for long anyways you might as well start getting your shoes off and shit bad idea you cant walk while you only have one foot shit.   
You end up falling into Dave a few times, bursting into small fits of laughter with him since he too is trying hard to get his own tie loosened with one shaky hand.   
Finally, FINALLY, you reach the bed. You know because when he stops and seems to begin falling backwards, you switch places with him, letting yourself fall back with him on top. The air leaves your lungs as he lands on your chest. You don’t consider Dave little or small by any means, but by purely physical view you are bigger, and well, you didn’t want to fall on Dave!   
But why are you still wearing clothes, you want to get out of the clothes jesus Christ. Luckily you had loosened you shoes enough that with a little flailing you kick them off, Dave already propping himself up and undoing your jacket. When he finishes you shed it quickly, then bat him away to get your socks off as fast as possible, giving him the chance to roll over off of you and onto the bed so he can throw his own socks and shoes off.   
You’re on him in seconds, legs spread over him so you can keep as much contact as possible while leaning down to get his lips on your again. You move your fingers on his jacket, getting the buttons undone, and undoing his waistcoat too and fuck there’s another set of buttons on his white shirt why are there so many buttons??? You growl in frustration at them, not even noticing how Dave has already managed to undo all your own buttons until you feel warm hands moving against your skin. You’re both so hard, and its not fair when he moves his hips up because you weren’t done with his fucking buttons and you literally have to stop everything and just try to remember how to breathe holy shit.   
Dave takes the opportunity to push you up so he can get his own buttons undone and shirt off, while you follow him, shedding your upper clothing, leaving only the most frustratingly interruptive article left.   
Dave is straddling you, his hands moving so low so slowly you buck up, panting and whimpering in anticipation because you need to be touched please please please. 

“Just-ah, tell me to stop, and I will.” 

You fix your eyes on him, and he’s watching you, movement’s stilled, cheeks flushed and brow damp. His eyes look so heavy, pupils so large. You nod, frantically trying to get the message out that yes you get it but please don’t stop. You don’t think you could speak if you tried.   
And then his face isn’t inches from yours anymore, its much lower, and he’s ripping off your pants, making you lift up so he cant get them all the way off. His hands are all over you in all the right places and when he finally touches you, you almost scream it feels so amazing. You throw your head back, trying to remember if anything had ever felt this good as he moves in again, taking your boxers off completely, leaving you so open. 

“Ah-ahh please…”

Was that your voice? You don’t care. There is warm air ghosting over your erection and you have to look down, have to see because Dave is panting below your legs, looking up at you, waiting for you to say ok yes ok even though you thought you just did fuck. 

“Please, fuck Dave-

His mouth in on your dick and this time when you throw your head back you do cry out, not even able to stand the sight below you because its too much, you wont last with the feeling and the sight, everything is too warm and wonderful and you cant stop moaning. 

“Dave!”

You feel so close, probably because even just thinking about what he’s doing to you would make you come too soon, and you don’t want that. You grab his hair blindly, releasing the sheets you didn’t know you had been clutching so hard. You want to move him, fuck his perfect mouth so badly, but this isn’t about just you, and you want to do so much more than just let him suck you off. So you pull him up, up to you, aching at the feeling of air on your wet member, but latching onto Dave’s mouth quickly, not caring about the taste. 

“Get, the pants-ah, o-off.”

You manage to get the words out even through your shaking voice. You’re almost hurting you’re so hard, and you know he must be losing it without any contact yet. He follows your orders, moving away to undo the buttons, and strip himself fully, taking the boxers with him. You stare openly, panting at Dave, naked and flushed and gasping for air between your legs. He looks so gorgeous you honestly don’t know if you want to fuck him into next week or if you want him to fuck YOU into next week god you just want someone to fuck someone into next week NOW.

“I want to ride you so badly John, god you look so good like that.”

You groan at his words, how deep his voice is, so full of perfect want. 

“Do it, fuck do it please just-fuck.”

You see him scramble over to where he through his pants, and you whine the whole time while he curses. He takes what you can only assume is a packet of lube and a condom out of his pocket before he ruches back over to you. You pull him down to attack his mouth again, pulling his hair with one hand while the other goes down to touch him, feel him, anything to keep him moving and moaning.   
You wrap you hand around him and move it up, squeezing just a little, and when he gasps in your mouth you push your tongue past his lips, knowing your movements were sloppy, messy and unpracticed but not caring. His hips aren’t lowered to you’re and you want to scream because you need the friction, you need it. 

“J-John, I gotta, I gotta prep-ah! Ah, and if, fuck if you keep doing that I’m gonna cum oh god-

“You can cum twice.”

“You pulled me, away, s-so if you wo-AH shit! If you won’t cum twice I won-wont.”

“Let me help prep you, oh god I want to watch you fuck yourself on my f-fingers.” 

“Oh god, shit, yes-

You stop pumping him and he kisses you shakily, and you hear him open the packet of lube, and you immediately open your eyes, watching as he takes you’re hand. You take over, grabbing the packet and coating your fingers quickly. Where you might not have much experience, you certainly experimented enough on your own to know what to do next.   
You move your hands to his ass, squeezing and spreading his cheeks before moving your finger to his entrance, just circling’s, then adding only the smallest pressure, moving into fully pushing it inside him when he moans, please you to hurry.   
You fuck him with one finger, and then two, and then three and he either doesn’t care or can’t stop himself as he all but screams your name. You move and prod the little bundle of nerves within him and he bites his lip so hard you can see the red prick of blood. 

“Please, please John please, fuck me I’m ready PLEASE!”

You don’t need him to tell you more than that, you pull your fingers out and fumble for the condom, noticing how close he is to your cock, just above it as he holds himself with shaking knees. You try to get the little packet on but you’re hands are shaking too badly, and Dave has to help you, and when he rolls it on the small touch ignites you and you feel like you’re dying but in such a good way.   
Dave wasn’t lying about riding you, and you’re still on your back, one of his hands on your chest, the other aligning you as he lowers himself. His eyes close at the first touches the tiny penetration, and it’s so hard to keep your hips still but you do, waiting for him. It feels so tight, so wonderful so warm, so good, so impossibly good. 

“John…”

He says it softly, almost not making any noise, so wrapped up in the feeling, his eyes squeezed shut. You groan at the sight, so tempted to grab his hips and move into him, but making yourself keep your fingers clamped on the sheets. You’re legs shake and your toes curl as he gets to your base, finally seated fully on you, panting hard like yourself. You don’t move, you wait for him first because you may have gotten yourself this far but you could still hurt him, still mess things up and that terrifies you. 

“You, ah, ok?”

“Y-yeah. You?”

“All good, just, just getting used to your monster dick up my ass.”

You can’t help it, you laugh, short burst of amusement that shakes your entire frame. Laughter is quickly replaced by gasps as the feeling of Dave moving over you takes control of your senses. This time Dave chuckles, looking down at you as you watch with lidded eyes as he begins to slowly rock his hips.

“D-ave!”

You moan his name, silently begging him to keep moving, keep going as you move you hands to his hips, just keeping yourself from bruising his skin. You have to hold onto him, have to feel more grounded before you float away, loose control. You want to close your eyes and let your head fall back but you cant look away, cant see anything else other than Dave moving his hips up and down, up and down.  
You decide that is he can move so easily with that small smirk on his face you can move too, and you take far too much satisfaction in the act of thrusting up, watching as his eyes go wide and smirk disappears, mouth opening to inhale sharply. Now you smirk up at him, watching as he tries and fails to steady his breathing. When he meets your eyes you lock him in your gaze, and thrust again. 

“Ah-Ahh yes!”

His eyes are closed now as he hisses out incoherent curses. Continuous ‘yes’s’ and ‘John’s’ roll off his tongue and you wish he wasn’t so far away, body above, towering over yours as you remain on your back. You continue to thrust up, finding a rhythm he joins, his cock bouncing against his stomach as he rides you.   
You’re getting close to your peak, hips beginning to move more spastically, hands holding Dave so tightly you feel like you’re going to rip his skin off and he’s too far away, too far from your touch. You can’t stand staying so far below from him, you need him, you need closeness, you need his weight steadying your entire body. You move your hands up, stretching, curling forward until his shoulders fold under your hands and you drag him down to you. You need him to stay close to you, and you hold him there, only bringing him close enough to kiss when you can spare the air you cant inhale fast enough.   
He begins moving faster, taking more control, making each thrust deeper, driving you crazy as you get closer, your mouth open in silent cries. 

“John, m’getting clo-ah! Please!”

You move you hand fast, hand closing around him and pumping fast, too far gone to match the pace of your hips. His fingers grip anywhere they can, in your arms, your chest, your hair. He leans forward, shaking and groaning into your collar, body moving jerkily as he tightens around you, making you move that much faster.   
He comes with your name on his tongue, one hand tearing in your hair, the other leaving bruises on your arm. He gets impossibly tight around you and every time you move he cries out again. You still pump him as you move, his erection softening, cum coating your hand. You begin to see stars as he whimpers in your ear, still saying your name again and again.

“Dave!”

You’re hips stutter to a stop as you come hard, you eyes squeezing shut, words and sounds pouring from your mouth you’re not aware of. You hold him through your orgasm and he holds you back, still shaking. You head spins and you feel so warm, so tired. You cling to Dave’s body, because if you let go you don’t know if reality will return to you. It’s hard to catch your breath, and when you finally do, you open your eyes.   
Red eyes look back warmly, fatigue clinging to them. You begin to feel the world return to you, and you can feel his hand running through your hair, his voice soft. 

“You ok? John?”

Why wouldn’t you be ok? You just had sex with the guy you love, even if you feel like the whole thing went so fast the sparks of pleasure still light up your body. 

“I love you.”

You whisper the words, not sure why really, maybe you’re too spent, voice gone. He kisses you, and leans back but that’s a problem because you cant let him leave you, cant let him get so far away. You pull him back, kissing him with a little more heat, nestling into his neck, securing his body to yours. 

“I love ya too, but I kinda need your dick outa mah ass.”

Oh.

“Oh my god I’m so sorry!”

You squeak out the words, feeling your eyes fly wide open and face heat up ridiculously. You let him pull away, and you remove your hands from him to cover your face. He just leans in and kisses your hands, giving little chuckles. 

“S’ok. It’s all good. Really good. Five stars, would recommend. Wait no, no one gets recommendation except you to me. Or vice versa. No one else.”

You help him out, deciding the whole thing would be a lot easier if he was underneath you, since he looks exhausted just by sitting up. You’re not much better, but you do flip him over, earning a surprised noise from him and a grunt from you as you’re dick moves a bit in him. When you look down at him, face flushed, hair messy, he looks incredible. You want to look at him all night, admiring all the different places marks appear on his skin. You pull out of him though, trying to go slow but still making him wince. 

“I’m sorry, sorry! Are y-

“I’m fine, I’m ok, it’s ok, all good remember?” 

You fall back down beside him, quickly pulling him back into you, careful to keep both your sensitive parts from touching. You hide your face in his neck, feeling undeniably hopeless in your mess up. 

“I’m so sorry-

“John, dude, no. You just rocked my world don’t ruin the moment man. Move your stupid head and kiss me.”

You huff into his neck, refusing to move. 

“You gonna come outta there?”

You shake your head ‘no’ into his skin. 

“You’re ridiculous, you know that right? You’re also really adorable and I need to kiss you.”

He moves too fast and is out of your grip before you can stop him. You whine helplessly, feeling your flushed face heat up all over again. 

“I love you. So much.”

He kisses you, light little pecks all over your face before he settles back on you, kissing you slow and sweet, and runs his fingers through your hair. You kiss him back, helpless to keep your eyes open as he moves his mouth against you so gently. 

“I love you.”

You throw the words into the kiss, mumbling them once, twice, a hundred times. 

“Love you. I love you.”

He chants it back, whispering it, breathing it, giving you another kiss so sweet you smile into it. 

“If I fall asleep, will I wake up with you still here?”

You’re voice is already slurring with the weight of sleep pressing on you. But you need to hear him say he’ll stay with you. You need to know you won’t wake up tomorrow in your own bed alone, with only the memories of a dream to haunt you. 

“Never gonna leave ya. Promise.” 

“Love you Dave.”

You almost fall asleep before you hear him. 

“Love ya more.”


	15. Chapter 15

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> so begins the endless fluff
> 
> (Dave POV)

You watch John fall asleep, and then you dream of nothing. When you wake up first and turn in his arms to face him, you have no idea how long you stare. You could have watched him for five minutes, it could have been hours. You watch him breathe, the way his chest rises and falls. You watch his hair sway softly with every rush of air he sucks in. the white sheets contrast with his tan skin and black hair. He glows under the blanket of morning light, and you reach out to trace the patterns of sunlight on his cheek, neck, shoulders. His only reaction to your touch is a sigh, or sometimes slight movement of the head.   
You could wake him up now, but you don’t want to. This is a moment where you have the chance to feel complete happiness. The room is quiet, the outside world doesn’t matter, John in holding you in his sleep, and the last thing you remember was having sex with said gorgeous guy. For someone as nervous as John seemed, things went smoothly. You knew it would be easier to let John do the fucking this round as a first, since it would be more in league with what he knew. You didn’t want any chance of John being uncomfortable or feeling pain, and you had made the right decision. He had been so careful with you. His anxiety over possibly hurting you had been almost tangible, and even when he let himself go a little you knew he was holding back. There was no denying that some parts had been awkward, and he was clearly inexperienced, but you don’t need to be a sex god in order to convey tenderness or passion. It also didn’t hurt that John seemed intent on pleasing you, and when he became aware of your prostate’s location, he certainly used this knowledge. You definitely didn’t have any trouble coming, and in all honesty? Even when the sex is really good with a stranger, that shit just cant compare to being close to the person you love physically. John could have easily fucked up at many points, as could you have, but you still would have found it perfect in the end. Being in love kinda makes the sex automatically way better in your opinion. And god do you love John. And when he had flipped you at the end, even if it was just to get out of your ass, you can already picture him doing it again, but keeping you there and pounding you into the damn bed. Or maybe you could tie him up and ride him again, drive him crazy. Or maybe he could tie YOUR up. You also have to admit that the idea of fucking John is really appealing. You know you could make him scream your name all night, show him what pleasure really is. You would be sugar sweet with him at first of course, all gentle touches and soft kisses, always making sure he was enjoying himself. You would learn his body, open it and study it like a book, and figure out every way to make him feel good.   
He sighs in his sleep and you study him. He turns his head a little to nuzzle deeper into the bedding, his arms tightening just barely around your body. Instinctively you move into him, closing your hands around him, keeping no distance between your bodies. He stirred, and with you face now curled into his neck, he couldn’t see you face. You let your breath steady and grow slow, hoping to give him more time to sleep. The way he moved now though suggested he had awakened, his movements sluggish and somewhat confused. His arms loosened from around you and you had a brief moment of fear that he would get up and depart. Instead you felt light fingertips dance through your bed head. You hummed naturally at the little pleasure, and you swear you could hear his smile as he whispered ‘I love you’. You whispered it back, leaning up to look into his now open eyes, the sleep still evident in his features, but happiness clear and bright. He looked back and forth between your eyes, smiling the whole time. 

“You’re eyes are pretty.”

You could feel yourself blush at his words, and his smile turned dopey and larger. You could see his front teeth stick out, the sign of his genuine smile. 

“You smell like sex.”

You grumble the words into his chest, content to burry yourself away from his observing eyes. He continues to play with your hair and when he chuckles you can feel every movement of it. 

“Gee, I wonder why that is.”

“Dunno. Maybe you banged a hot stud last night.”

“He was pretty hot.”

You know he’s still smiling, and you go ahead and shift your position to lying more on top of him than against him. You lean in and kiss his nose, not wanting to brave the morning breath. 

“Hot stud wants a shower with hot dork.”

He giggles, following you as you roll off the bed, not really bothering with any clothes. John stays on the bed looking mildly embarrassed, uncertainly gripping a sheet like he might use it to cover up. He’s purposefully not looking at you.

“You embarrassed of your lovely dick, sweet-pea?”

“Dave!”

He whined, turning bright red and making the mistake of looking at you. His eyes immediately flicked south, and he flushed even more, squeaking as he looked away. You move back over to him, kissing his neck and relaxing him through your smile. He was too adorable sometimes. You ended up taking his hand and pulling him up, letting him admire the view without assaulting him with your own glances. When you get to the bathroom you notice the giant wall sized mirror before he does, and you go ahead and enjoy the sight before he catches himself in the reflection and moves over to the shower quickly, turning it on to a warm temp, the glass shower walls fogging up almost instantly. He seems much less self-conscious with the steam enveloping most of the space, and smiles over at you just a little bashfully. You get a nice view of his ass, and don’t even bother trying to resist as you walk over and squeeze it. He makes a little noise, which you silence with a kiss, deciding the steam can cover any morning breath and you don’t actually care that much right now.   
You’re a bit sore from last night, but not in any actually pain. You do want to let the hot water relax your muscles though. You also want to enjoy your shower with John. You’re not quite up for shower sex, but maybe some grinding, double hand jobs while making out, sounds nice.   
John seems perfectly up for it as he drags you into the hot spray with him, pulling just enough to have you fall into him so he can immediately begin kissing you, his hands on the dimples of your back. 

“Will you pass the shampoo?”

That catches you off guard. Did he actually want to use that as lube and fuck you right now? Fucking with John, hell yes. Shampoo as lube? Fuck no. 

“Dude that’ll burn like hell, no way am I putting that shit in my ass.”

“…What?”

“Believe me dude that stuff will sting like a bitch-

“Dave I just wanted to wash my hair??”

Sure you think, just let me get this foot out of my mouth. Fucking Christ you gotta get your head out of the gutter for a second. 

“Right. Yeah here ya go.”

He takes it with a raised eyebrow, one hand still on your lower back.

“…did you, uh, want to…?”

“If its chill with you I’m still a kinda sore from last nights ride.”

He smiles at you. 

“Yeah, I was actually just gonna wash your hair for you, sorry to disappoint, hehe.”

“Yea-

“Next time though, shower sex could be really fun.”

You forget what you were saying and instead just focus on immediately kissing him. Under the water you scope him out, noticing you own pink skin, flushed and blotchy in the steam compared to his tanner skin, which only looked better in the warm water. While he’s distracted with the shampoo you do go ahead and admire the sight below. He really does have a nice dick.   
His fingers rubbing on your scalp feel like heaven, and you easily comply when he tilts your head this way and that. You shut your eyes, sighing into his touch. You can feel the water run over you head, the shampoo rinsing. He moves his fingers with what would be conditioner lightly through your hair, and when you open your eyes to watch his face you grin; his face is completely concentrated on your hair, his brow is even furrowed a little. You close your eyes again to rinse it.   
You jump a little when you feel the soap bar brush your arm. He places a hand gently on your hip, and when you look at him he’s smiling down at his task, working bubbles onto your skin lazily. You close your eyes yet again, completely giving over to the range of pleasant sensations.   
He washed your arms, your back, your chest, and then he’s lowering himself and you open your eyes again.   
He’s looking up at you from his lowered position. He’s rubbing gently on the inside of your thigh, and his smile is completely scandalous. You have no idea what happened to the embarrassed boy you woke up with. You swallow as he moves, his eyes sliding down to his task. He’s definitely blushing, and you know you are too, and he’s moving his hand up so slowly, so slowly from your thigh-

There’s a very distinct sound of “Who let the dogs out” blaring from the other room. John stops immediately, and you slap a hand over your face in irritation. That was Jade’s ringtone. 

“Fuckin shit.”

“We gotta answer it, it could be important.”

“Fuck. I know, yeah ok. Fucking, fuck.”

“Guess I’ll just…wash my hair and shit. While you go, take that.”

You don’t bother to hid your wine as he moves his hands away, only to wine again as he begins washing his own body. He grins at you in the most frustratingly tempting way, and that’s just not fair. 

“Go answer Jade, then come back and help me out in here.”

Its all the invitation you need, and you take one more longing glance over at him before jumping out and grabbing a fluffy white towel. You flash step out of the room and almost rip your pants apart to grab at the phone. Patients is not something you really have. You grab the damn thing and accept the call, ceasing the endless loop of “who let the dogs out”.

“What.”

From the other end of the phone come’s Jade’s bubbly voice. 

“Geez, someone sure is grumpy. I sure hope John’s not dealing with you like this.”

“How’d you know John’s here?”

“Oh, sorry, should I be assuming you two actually DIDN’T fuck last night?”

“Wow way to be subtle.”

“What’s there to even be subtle about, neither of you were home last night!”

“Were you fucking stalking us or something?”

“Just wanted to make sure nothing ended badly and that John wasn’t all alone, I don’t know!”

“That’s bullshit and hey nice to know you have so much faith in me.”

“Did you rent a hotel room? What hotel did you get? Was it super fancy Dave? Did it totally impress John with your fanciness?” 

“As much as I love 20 questions lets skip to the part where you tell me why you called.”

“Oh right! Rose and I have bets!”

“What.”

“So I bet that you would top but Rose wa-

You hang up and silence the phone immediately. You can just imagine Rose siting on her little couch with her knitting needles, smiling smugly as Jade has her fun. You can still hear the water running so you go ahead and move quickly back to the bathroom. John hears you and asks if everything was alright. 

“Those nosy bitches are perfectly fucking fine.”

“What’d they say to get you all pissy?”

“They interrupted my god damn shower time with a hot naked guy, that’s what.”

He snickers at you as you hop back in, sighing at the heat of the steam that rolls over your skin, while hands move gently over your shoulders, curl in your hair, cup your cheek, linger on your collar bone. Little kisses land over your cheek bones, your nose, your closed eyelids. You move your own hands blindly to his back, rubbing little circles, scratching gently into his skin, listening as he releases puffs of air, indications of the little pleasures you can give him. When you open your eyes he’s leaning into you, his eyes closed gently in lazy happiness. You give him soft kisses up his neck, unable to resist the available skin. You don’t pull away, you just stay close to him, the heat of the shower forgotten as you focus on his own body heat. If you wanted to you could move flush against him, but for some reason it’s just nice to stay the way you are. There’s nothing pushing your further apart, and his hands are still gently tracing invisible lines in your skin. Its sweet in a sensual way, the way you two can just touch each other like this. The fact that you are allowed to touch him like this, and that he is willingly touching you back so easily almost hurts you with how wonderful it is. You want to stay under the water with John until it goes cold, and then you want to continue standing there with him until you freeze in his hold. There’s no reason to get out. No reason to leave or move or continue normal life. You could live outside of normality with John, and you could be so happy. You think it’s strange how you had intended on a quick session of rushed sexual activities, but now that you’re just standing in the shower with him, and even though you’re both naked, the intent is gone. You just want to be still while everything else moves, and John seems ok with that too. 

You both do end up staying there for a long time, only feather light touches and ghosts of lips on skin occurring. When the water does run cold, you pull back enough to catch his eye, already so focused on yours that you would feel self conscious if it wasn’t such a gentle look.   
When he starts to giggle, you snort, and then its all quiet laughs filling the air. You end up turning off the cooling water, and John grabs the towels. While you’re still securing one around your waist, John attacks your head, drying your damp hair and laughing at your weak protests. When he finishes you do the same to him, but he just laughs even more, probably aware that nothing in the world could make his hair messier than it normally would be. 

“I’m hungry as fuck. You wanna hand me the room service menu?”

“Uh, isn’t this place kinda costing you a fortune?”

“And?”

He looks at you a bit nervously, and you smack him with a towel gently. He gives you a look but you just smirk. 

“So I wanted to spoil us a little. Besides, did you really wanna fuck in some shitty motel with moth eggs and semen on the bed?”

“Oh jesus, EW, Dave! I didn’t need to picture that! Bluh!”

“Well I guess there’s semen on our bed too but at least we know it’s ours.”

“Oh my god, please shut up.”

“Make me.”

“You just want me to kiss you.”

“Holy shit, really? I want my boyfriend to kiss me? Wow that must be the biggest fucking shocker, we better call the press, get the media in on this pronto.”

“Dude, seriously, I don’t want you spending all this money for me. You bought me a really nice suit the other day and I know that lunch with Jade must have been expensive as hell.”

You cup his guilty looking face in your hands and kiss him yourself, just a short kiss, nothing beyond sweet. Your noses bump, but at least your glasses aren’t getting in the way. 

“If you want nice things, chances are they’re gonna cost ya. I got cash to flaunt that I never had any reason to use before, and now I want to. Simple as that.”

“We can have amazing dates and shit together without spending a lot of money though Dave.”

“Hey, some of my best memories are just bumming around with you on a shitty couch watching shitty movies. I’ll always be happy just being with you, but it’s like you said, sometimes things need to be special, and to make it special sometimes you need a little help from the green stuff.”

“What makes all this special isn’t the money, its you.”

“Yeah I know bu-

“No, I mean, Dave, everything you do is special. And when I’m with you, I feel special. I’m not saying this isn’t nice, because duh, its really nice, but you know we don’t need to do something super extravagant for every date right? All I want is to spent time with you.”

He kisses your nose with a smile on his lips, and his words are made of sugar and you can practically taste them on your tongue for all their sweetness. You didn’t realize that spending money on John would make him uncomfortable, but it really wasn’t like you were incapable of spending a lot of money. Bro had indeed left you more than enough, and now you wanted to use the funds you had never touched before to add a little something to the experience of dating John. 

“So when I spend money on you, that makes you uncomfortable? Even if I really want to and totally have the cash?”

“I-no, uh, ok maybe, but I’m going somewhere with this, just, gimme a sec. ok. Yeah so we’re both financially good, you more than me I would guess, but it doesn’t really matter. Shit I was trying to be more, I don’t know, smooth about this?”

“What? Also you’re not smooth.”

“Shut up. Alright you know what? Fine, I’m doing this.”

You watch as he takes a comically large breath in before forcing out the words in one go.

“I want to move in together.”

You can say with complete honestly that you weren’t expecting that. You know you must look surprised, which you are of course, since A) that was pretty out of the blue and B) you had assumed John would want his own space, not that you had been really all that willing to give it to him, but you had understood the desire for solitude and planned on respecting that. 

“I mean, I know this is going really, REALLY fast, but if you think about it its almost like we’ve already been dating for years anyways just without knowing it and lets face it, things are gonna be moving faster than normally anyhow, and I just don’t want be alone anymore, like at all and I want YOU to be next to me when I wake up and when I fall asleep and when I’m watching TV and cooking and fooling around and believe me I know-

“Holy shit calm down dude.”

You get him to pause and look at you, and you feel a buzz of excitement in your chest as you realize, yeah, this is a big step, but its happening.   
You want it to happen.

“I’m gonna need some help packing.”

The smile on his face after he registers your words reaches all the way to his eyes and they shine like bursting stars.


	16. Chapter 16

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This chapter marks the entrance into the second part of the piece, which will be about dealing with the effects of the illness and the stress it can have on not only the body, but the mind.   
> thank you

For the next couple of days you’re folding clothes, throwing old shit away, donating furniture and slowly moving all your most important possessions into John’s apartment. You hang a few posters, you set up you’re turntables by his keyboard, you add your favorite pillows to now both of yours bed. He even clears a shelf for your precious collection of dead things, although not in the bedroom. Overall, it’s a bit of a tight squeeze, but it’s the most comfortable you’ve ever felt in a place since living as a kid with Bro. It feels like a completed home, with the individual touches of two separate people who had formed a unified space together. Selling your old space wasn’t difficult, and the money you got from it wasn’t much but still gave you a nice amount to throw back into your account, and you honestly couldn’t give a shit about the price anyways. You were officially living with John, and just as he had wanted, and you had wanted, you both wake up together, fall asleep together, and spent endless hours doing nothing together. You’re able to hold John when you know he’s having trouble sleeping, or the nightmares you know are haunting him now. He comforts you when you wake up with images of coffins and black clad forms tormenting you, and tears on your face. You talk about useless things and joke about stupid nothings, and you kiss each other into late hours and early hours. He’s pulled you into his arms and run his hands down every inch of your skin, breathing air onto your flesh that feels too hot to be possible, feeding you pleasure and devouring your soft noises. Jade comments that you both fuck like rabbits. John’s face turns a nice shade of red but you just smile like the smug bastard you are. Because yes, getting laid is nice. Getting laid constantly is great. Getting a good lay constantly is amazing. And having constantly having good sex with the person you love? That’s better than amazing, and so you don’t know how to describe it.   
Neither of the girls seemed even slightly surprised when you had told them you would both be living together. Jade hadn’t seen any difference since as she put it, you both had basically been living together anyway. Rose had given you a satisfied smile, and had told you she was glad that both of you wouldn’t be alone even for a second anymore. The four of you still gathered together at what was now John’s and yours place, the only difference being that you never left.   
You had only been nervous about one thing when you first moved in, and that was the kitchen. The shrine to John’s father, and what it meant to John. You had abandoned your habit of stuffing swords into refrigerators of course, but you still had wanted the freedom to go into the cupboard and grab cereal for breakfast, or rummage through the fridge for snacks and apple juice. It was on the second night that the barrier surrounding the little area had been torn down by John himself, all with the simple action of asking Dave to help him unload groceries and start dinner.   
His actions in that moment had made Dave realize how much John must have really cared about him, and how strong John had grown within the short span of a week. There was a new confidence to the man you loved that kept his back straight, chin up, and smile broad and genuine. He explained to you on a quiet evening when you were trying to figure out where to put the poptarts that by using the kitchen to actually cook made it the thing it had been meant for all along, and the thing his father would have wanted him to use it as. You don’t know what had caused John’s sudden change in opinion over the kitchen, but you didn’t argue. You loved watching him cook. The way he concentrated on the measurements of an ingredient, but in the end just flung in what he wanted to add the perfect amount. You loved the careful movement of brining a spoon to his lips, tasting it, pondering over it, and resuming. You loved how his body curved in ways that he was so unconscious of while he engaged so deeply in his task.   
And then there was the keyboard.   
Because when you had come over to John’s place he had always been the host, entertaining you or Rose or Jade, never completely going off and doing his own thing.   
When John played the piano he was doing HIS thing. He did it the first time a week after you had officially moved in. you could feel his hesitation in the room, the nervousness of his very movement. You had been so aware of him even though you were on your computer. You had acted as the invisible bystander, trying not to exist for that moment.   
And the he played, and it didn’t matter that he had sent you files of his music on your request, because he might as well have sent you nothing. John performed above his keyboard, his inexpensive, thin, scratched keyboard, playing it like a grand piano. He would stop sometimes, start again, change keys, slow down, speed up, but always when he played he performed. If you had been obsessed with watching John in the kitchen, you were addicted to watching him play piano. Maybe it was your love and appreciation for music itself that made John’s playing so incredible, but you had never appreciated the well know works of long dead pianists. You could only observe John in his magnificence and fall in love 100 times over and over again. You would let him finish, breathe in, breathe out, and then you had to be attached to him, had to try playing him like he played the keys, had to feel his hands that had moved so perfectly over black and white. He had learned early to expect the first kiss after the removal of glasses, and his eagerness only continued to match yours with every day.  
You were in a frozen time period of bliss. Happiness overpowered the underlying grief and torment, and for 2 solid weeks you were happier than you could have ever remembered. You left your mask behind for John. You only wore the shades outside. You laughed naturally and loudly.

The third week began with normal beginnings. You woke up to John tangled in your limbs. You complained when he started breakfast instead of showering with you while he just chuckled and promised deliciously dirty things later.   
When you walked into the kitchen you expected a kiss. Instead you received the beginning you knew was coming and had been coming. The start of the end, and the first part of something terrible.   
He was coughing. It was small, and it stopped easily, but the sound had been wrong, and the worry in his eyes didn’t disappear before you saw it. He knew, and you knew, because when you have lung cancer a cough isn’t just a cough. It’s a sign, a reminder, and a promise of the worse to come. He passed it off as choking a bit on the eggs, and you let him. You ate together in an unsteady silence, and he finished quickly, going off to shower as you continued to place food in your mouth without tasting it. You remembered the books you had read, the discussions with Jade and Rose all about this very moment, about the beginning of the end, but your mind becomes blank. You can only register in the depth of your head that an overwhelming panic was creeping over you and tightening your muscles. The plate you brought to the sink shattered in your hands, and you didn’t even think about all your tiny cuts, all the small drops of bloods tinting the water running over your hands and the jagged pieces of ceramic. You could only think that this was happening.   
And there is nothing you can do.  
John comes back and sees you over the sink, the water still running, and he sees the blood. He makes a noise of exclamation, he calls your name and you just look at him.   
You wonder what he sees because his movement slows and he just looks back at you, this scared, unsure look so easily shown in his features. He moves slowly towards you, and he takes your hands, limp in his, and runs them over the water, inspecting them, cleaning them. He pulls you back to the table and sits you down, goes to grab something and comes back with bandages. He patches you up like a broken doll and you sit there because you cant do anything.   
He kisses each finger so gently, and time slows and the world silences as he cries over your cut fingers.  
You can only pull him to you, desperate to keep him safe, desperate to comfort, desperate for him. You think you might be in shock because you don’t cry, you just hold him so solidly, unmoving with dead eyes. 

“I love you.”

Its all he says between tiny sobs, and its all you know he can say. What else could he say? What does someone do when they’re dying and the person they love is just there, watching them die? And John knows, he knows he cant stop you from hurting, and he knows you will do stupid things, and he is blaming himself, and you are so utterly useless in proving him wrong, and that makes you the lowest form of life in the universe.   
The love of your life is blaming himself for causing you pain as he dies, and you are just sitting there, silent, and stupid. 

“I love you, John.”

He cried harder into you, and you think it has to do with how broken you sounded.


	17. Chapter 17

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> miracles don't exist.

 

 

 

John ends up spending a long time with Jade after that one morning. After you both have a somewhat uneventful day of holding each other, you just drift in and out of sleep with John curled next to you. Jade appeared the very next morning, basically breaking into your home and preparing coffee while you and John woke up, confused and drained from a heavy day before. Now they go out to lunch at least every other day. She pops in at odd hours, sometimes without even greeting you. She whisks John away from you at random times and you’ve tried going with them, but Jade makes you stay behind. Your anger flares and you would lash out at her if it weren’t for the seriousness of her voice, and the determination in her face. She takes your John, and you are left with empty hours and heavy silence. You cant strife on the roof here, and there’s no one to strife anyway. You can’t leave because it feels like you’re breaking a code by not leaving with John. If he was to come back and you wouldn’t be here you would feel like you left him completely. So you call Rose, and she comes easily, as if expecting your call.

 

 

“He’s lost some weight. He’s still stronger than I am, but he has this boniness kinda thing going on.”

 

Rose nods at your words, occasionally sipping her tea. Yours lies on the table, untouched and growing cold. You don’t want any fucking tea.

 

“Do you happen to have any idea what Jade and John are doing on their little outings? I didn’t want to pry with John, and Jade has been unusually quite about recent activities. She hasn’t contacted me recently really.”

 

You try to think about the last time you actually talked to Jade. It was probably a week after moving in with John, when Rose had fallen asleep on John’s shoulder, while John was also passed out, and Jade told you about how Rose had kissed her when she was drunk. You had told her everything Rose had told you, about Rose’s lost soul mate thing, and Jade had been much more accepting of Rose’s words than you had been at first.

 

“ _I think that’s really reasonable actually. It’s like Rose’s love is just floating around, without anything to focus on, so its stuck.”_

_“Rose has us. We love her and she loves us, I mean she’s gotta know that.”_

_“Well of course Rose loves us, but not romantically, Dave. She’s got this entirely different kind of love just waiting for someone, but they’re not coming and to top it off, she’s loosing a whole chunk of platonic love with John…going. I really think she’s lonely.”_

_“And what about you, Harley. Are you pinning for some long lost love in fucking space or some shit?”_

_“Well, I don’t think so, but, maybe? It’s a hard concept for me because I’ve never been in love. I mean, I love all you guys so much, but I know I still have some social skills to work on, oh geez I don’t even know.”_

_“Do you think you’ll ever fall in love, maybe get married? Pop out some babies even?”_

_“How would I know? Love isn’t really something you plan, it just happens, right? I think that’s why they call it falling in love, because you don’t have any control over it, just like when you trip and fall.”_

_“But you can still control how you fall. Like, if you roll on the landing or something.”_

_“Dave don’t ruin my metaphor.”_

When Jade had come in this afternoon, right before you had planned on starting a nice make out session with John, which you had hoped to escalate to other events, the only reason you hadn’t cursed at her was because of how completely shitty she looked. The bags under her eyes were dark, almost to the point that it looked like she had been punched in both eyes, and her skin looked grey underneath the dark tan. She clearly hadn’t slept or been sleeping, and she didn’t even try to fake a smile. Whatever Jade was doing, it was draining her.

 

“Whatever they’re doin’ together, its not helping Harley, that’s for sure. Girl looks like hell. When’s the last time you saw her?”

 

“Perhaps four days ago. She had come knocking at my door far too early, looking almost excited, it was very strange.”

 

“Well did she say anything?”

 

“No, not really. She left almost as fast as she appeared. She said she was just checking in on me, and started making coffee, but didn’t even wait for it to finish before she was gone. However, she did come back two nights later and cried herself to sleep.”

 

“What? You mean like really upset crying? Why was she crying?”

 

“She didn’t say anything, except, well, John’s name. I could only assume she had been having a rough day and had wanted a bit of comfort and space to grieve. I was upset that she left so early the next day, as I had wished to talk to her, but she was gone before I even woke up.”

 

“You didn’t call her or anything? Why’d you just let her go?”

 

“Because when she needs me again she’ll come to me. For now I would think spending time with John is just something she needs. Her recent appearance suggests that she is not taking care of herself properly however.”

 

“I’ll take your word for it I guess. She’s always been kind of a nut job anyways. Her memory sucks still too, so she probably went over to your place thinking she had some important shit to do, broke down, forgot, and left. Wouldn’t be the first time.”

 

“Yes, but that doesn’t explain her recent habit of kidnapping John for some unknown reason.”

 

“No shit. And I’m not gonna put up with whatever she thinks she’s doing much longer. Egbert needs chill time. Specifically with me.”

 

“Haven’t gotten your preferred amount of sex this week I take it?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“I’ll be taking that as a definite ‘yes’ and an inclination that you’re in a poor mood because of it.”

 

“So I want to have sex with my boyfriend, didn’t really expect Jade the cock block to be affecting that so often ok? Seriously what the fuck are they even doing? They’re always gone for hours and they come back looking sad or pissed off or both.”

 

“John’s been upset after these outings?”

 

“He doesn’t say anything, but he sure as hell isn’t skipping into the place with a smile on his face. I aint gonna let this go on for much longer if it’s making John upset, Rose.”

 

“Perhaps we should have a kind of intervention. Talk to both of them, especially Jade. Figure out what’s going on and such.”

 

“Yeah, maybe.”

 

In your thoughtful state you actually take a sip of Rose’s tea, and its disgusting sweet. You flick your eyes over to Rose and see her sipping her own cup with just a hint of that smugness that lets you know she did, in fact, add way too much sugar on purpose. You look straight at her when she gives you a little smile, and down the whole cup, keeping a straight face. Strider 1, Lalonde 0.

 

“I would suggest you try to talk to John about this while I confront Jade-

 

The sound of the door opening makes you both turn, and you can see Rose’s eyes widening when Jade and John step inside. John looks perfectly normal, if not drained, while Jade looks as if she had been fighting a bear after just waking up from a coma. Its almost as if she was the one with cancer, suffering visibly.

John gives a rattling cough, trying to stifle it and you’re next to him before Jade can even reach out a hand. You envelope him in your arms and move the two of you to the couch easily. You can see Jade’s hand, still outstretched in her attempt to get to John, just frozen in the air. You don’t concentrate on it that long, not with John in your arms feeling cold and looking at you so gratefully. You hold him tighter as you both sink into the couch, but you don’t let yourself fall into the confortable position you normally would. Instead you examine him, not even bothering to look at Rose or Jade for a second. His skin looks a little paler, and where he is still the largest of you all, his pants sag in a way that shows the weight loss. There’s a certain amount of fatigue in his eyes when he looks silently up at you, but there’s no lack of honestly in his tiny smile. If he were working long hours at an office, or recovering from a fever, you wouldn’t think much about his appearance, not really. But this is the form of John’s illness, and it is the visible proof that his body cannot win in the internal fight of cells against cells.

And it makes you angry to a degree of murderous.

 

“Alright, enough of this shit. Where have you two been goin’ off to all the damn time.”

 

“Dave.”

 

Rose’s voice is sharp. She’s warning you to back down and cool off but you’re not interested.

 

“I don’t give a fuck Lalonde, you see Harley over there? She looks like she’s about to pass out. Or throw up. Hell, both even. She’s not takin’ care of herself and I don’t know what she’s doin’ with John and I wont sit here-

 

“Dave, calm down.”

 

John’s voice takes hold of you, crawls into your head and pushes all thought away. You immediately look into his eyes, and you breathe in, and breathe out. You’ve had moments when you’ve had to do this before, and you’ve found the method of concentrating on the exact shade of blue surrounding John’s pupils while breathing helps you more than shitty beer or loud music. You let your rage subside. You close your eyes and lean in enough to let John’s thick hair tickle your forehead. One of the stupid little perks of John not going through chemo was that he got to keep all his hair. You would seriously have a hard time keeping a straight face around a bald John, not that you would love him any less of course.

 

“Jade, why don’t you come sit down. I’ll make you and John tea.”

 

Smooth as ever, Rose swiftly moves from next to you, but you don’t look. You are selfishly invested in every inhale and exhale John makes. The way his hands drift over your arms. You can’t feel the couch sink with the weight of another person, but you do hear the springs of one of your old chairs you moved here squeak. You would guess if was Jade, being abnormally quiet while Rose fixes the tea.

When John moves his head you open your eyes, watching as he mouths a silent thank you to Rose while he extracts a hand from your arm and takes the tea. You’re shades are still on, pressing into your nose a bit, but you feel so much safer with them. You know that John will notice how you haven’t taken them off, and he’ll know you’re slipping into your mask again. You kiss him quick and soft on his turned cheek, and he doesn’t look at you, but smiles against the mug when he takes his first sip.

 

“Jade? Why don’t you have some. I put honey in your cup.”

 

“…Thank you, Rose.”

 

Her voice sounds incredibly small. Its so startling that you do turn to look at her like you looked at John. You observe that, like how John seems much smaller in your arms, Jade looks shrunken and thin in the chair she sits in. her hair is hiding a lot of her face, something that only happens when she really stops caring about what’s in front of her and can only focus on her thoughts. Her glasses are pushed right up against her eyes, which stare unfocused at the tea Rose gave her. She doesn’t even bother a fake smile. Rose sits beside you, but far enough away that it seems like great distance rests solidly between you both. You can tell Jade isn’t the only one overtaken with fragility. The air is still and so silent it FEELS loud. You don’t begin the conversation though, you’re too stubborn too, too angry still. You breathe in John, and you flick your eyes over him over and over again in the ritual you’ve taken to of observing. If he knows you’re watching him so intently, he doesn’t show it.

 

“Jade, when was the last time you slept?”

 

Rose’s voice is soft but still cracks the silence like a canon blast. The intangible remains of the noiselessness fall on your shoulder and make you fidget right along with John.

 

“…I’m fine.”

 

You’re surprised Rose even lets her finish saying that bullshit. “fine” was by no means a good description of Jade Harley at the moment. Her lie was weak, uncaring, and carried all the fatigue she could no longer hide.

 

“I don’t think you are fine. And I think you’re decrease mental and physical health has something to do with you’re mysterious outings with John.”

 

You wish she would just say it. You wish she would call Jade out on everything and get it over with. Rose was being calm and slow and generous, and all you wanted to be was loud and demanding in you agitation and impatience.

You’re anger came from the slight frown haunting John’s features recently, and from the state of the person you thought was your friend. But friends confide and trust, and if Jade doesn’t trust you, what are you to her?

 

“Jade, and John if you would speak with us as well, Dave and I would like to know what exactly has been going on. We’re both worried, and if we can we’ll help, but I must insist you tell us.”

 

Rose’s voice was still delicate, but firm in its undertone. You can feel John’s eyes on you, so you don’t look back. You don’t know how exactly he’s looking at you, perhaps with judgment, maybe irritation. You feel like a coward for not meeting his gaze, which you know he’s calling you with.

 

“Rose, maybe Jade could use some rest before we discuss this? She really needs to catch up on some sleep, believe me-

 

John’s sweet voice reverberates in your ears but still you lurch forward, emotion shaking your frame and contorting your face beyond your control. He silences at your sudden movement, and you take a moment to compose yourself.

 

“We’re talking about this _now,_ John.”

 

You hate how ragged, how raw and disgusting your voice sounds. You knew that you had been letting your façade of unemotional cool slip drastically, but the anger, the ferocity and lack of control scares you. Your voice is unfamiliar, and it rises above the steadiness within the room like a tidal wave. Still you don’t face John, you choose to clench your hands together in your lap, away from his, and to stare unseeing at the wall across from you.

 

“This isn’t something _you_ get to decide, Dave. Jade is the one who will talk, _if_ she wants to talk.”

 

You turn harshly to John, who only moments ago was in your arms but now sits full inches away, and see the frustrated and cold glare he gives you. He looks tired, and you know you’ve upset him, but damn it you’re so _angry_ and its fucking _hurts_.

Now you know he’s keeping secrets from you, and while that might be fair in the end, right now it just feels too unfair to be happening. So you glare back at him, mouth tight with jaw set, and even though you could scream you hold back, and look intently into the blue irises you love, but are so completely upset with.

 

“John, you seem to be implying that this is something Jade wants to keep secret?”

 

“We didn’t agree to sit down to have our brains dissected, Rose. If you two are going to be like this then we’re leaving.”

 

“No, we should tell them.”

 

Jade’s quiet voice cuts through Rose and John’s words, effectively silencing the room, and causing you all to look over at her. Her appearance had changed slightly since your first observations, and you realize how broken she suddenly seems. Almost like she’s ready to break down and cry at any moment now. You feel like a monster for not wanting to comfort her. All you feel is the unwelcome but overpowering rage coursing inside your body. You feel no pity for one of your closest friends while she clearly struggles with pain, and you can only image how hideous you look.

 

“Jade, we don’t have to…It’s ok.”

 

John’s voice had changed back to sweet and compassionate. You don’t completely turn to him, but you do look away from Jade. You don’t want to look at anyone. You don’t want to feel anything. You don’t understand why you’re so _angry_.

 

“I don’t want to be the reason we’re arguing. We can’t get mad at each other, not now. I want to tell them, John.”

 

You can see John bristle out of the corner of your eye. He’s upset with Jade’s willingness to spill, and you don’t know why. You keep your position of rigid aggression and frustration, letting Rose coax jade to open up more, and reveal the truth.

 

“Jade, we’re not going to be angry. Right Dave?”

 

“I’m already pissed about all the secret keepin’ goin’ on so I aint makin’ no promises.”

 

“Strider, how about you take whatever’s shoved up your ass and pull it out long enough to realize that your _friend_ could use your help.”

 

“Oh, wow, sorry for feeling just a little fucking frustrated that my _boyfriend_ doesn’t trust me.”

 

Rose gives you a look that’s laced with annoyance but tinted with pity. You refuse to acknowledge it, and return to looking straight at the wall.

 

“Jesus, Dave come on, is that seriously why you’re so damn upset?”

 

Of course that’s why you’re pissed off, but you don’t really feel like saying that out loud to John.

 

“Dave, come on. Look at me.”

 

You decide that the best course of action is to imitate a five year old and turn your head even more away from him.

 

“I’m in love with a giant child.”

 

With that he firmly takes both sides of your head and turns you to face him. You make effort to continue to not look at him while your head is still facing him and trapped in his hands. You refuse to let him win this one, you are still way too pissed damnit.

He starts lifting up your shades and you flinch enough to make a stranger back off, but John stubbornly holds you still, only one hand cupping your cheek while he situates the glasses above your head. You could continue to stare away from him, but it become difficult, so you close your eyes completely, and try in vain to keep you face blank.

His kiss is so sweet you want to strangle him because that’s not fair. He can’t just give you such a tornado of emotion and control you so easily and drain you and fill you up. Its not fair, but you will let him do it a million times over, because his lips move as gentle as flower petals and a light breeze over your skin, and they make you’re heart heat and melt.

You love him so much it hurts sometimes. And by sometimes, you mean a lot.

When he pulls away you open your eyes up to him, and you let him devour your appearance with his hungry gaze. You will always feel uncomfortable with John looking so intently into your strange eyes, but you’re getting more and more used to it by day. He says he loves looking in your eyes, and you don’t know what he finds or what he loves exactly, but you wont stop or take away something that gives him joy.

 

“Dave, you big baby, of course I trust you. But sometimes I want to protect you. I don’t want you to hurt because of something small.”

 

“No one’s ever tried protecting me before and I think I turned out just fine.”

 

“You have some extreme social issues, you hide behind a poker face and sunglasses every day, you refuse to express emotion even to us most of the time, you have a huge phobia of puppets, and you think weapons belong in the fridge. And that’s only, like, half your shit.”

 

“Wow way to make a guy feel special.”

 

“I’m just, well, I’m trying to make things easier for you.”

 

You give him a sharp look. Anyone else would have flinched under your eyes, but John just looks back steadily.

 

“I knew from the start that this shit wasn’t gonna be easy, John. I know what’s comin’, and I want to be there with you every step of the way. I want to know what you’re goin’ through so I can help you, because if you leave me in the dark over here you’re only makin’ me feel like a useless piece of shit.”

 

He continues to look at you steadily as you talk, his eyes so unwavering it’s almost unnerving. He must be able to see your honesty, but you don’t know if he can see how hurt you still are that he just wont tell you. You don’t know if you want him to see.

 

“John, I don’t meant to interrupt, but I would like to add that I feel similarly to Dave. By confiding in us we would feel enormously better, and possibly be able to offer help.”

 

You both turn to look at Rose. She hadn’t moved an inch from her upright and poised position. Her eyes claw into yours and flick to Johns. She’s probably been getting annoyed with how you both had been excluding her. You look over at Jade, and aren’t surprised to see her drained eyes lost and unfocused. She probably zoned out a while ago. You look back at Rose, who is now looking more gently at John. When you look back at him yourself, he seems only more determined to keep his mouth shut. His jaw is tense, like he thinks Rose is going to ponce on him and try to pry open his mouth for information. You know the two well enough to understand that their silent battle of stubbornness will continue for a good minute or two, so you turn to Jade.

 

“Harley.”

 

She seems slightly stirred from her thoughts, but her eyes still move over you with a far away look. She was still trapped inside herself.

 

“Jade. Stay with us here.”

 

The effect is instant, and you see her eyes visibly light up with sudden attention. Her pupils zoom in on you, then John and Rose. John’s attention had turned to Jade at some point, but Rose still seemed content to try and burn holed in Johns head with her eyes.

 

“I, uh sorry, what?”

 

She’s so fucking out of it you almost feel sorry for her. But you’re an asshole and you’re pissed off so you save the emotions you don’t want to feel for later.

 

“Need ya to fill us in on what’s goin’ on with you and John. Then you’re getting your ass to bed.”

 

“What? Wait, no! No I cant sleep, the blood tests are still running and I haven’t even checked…checked the…I don’t remember…”

 

You can feel John tense up the same time you do. The hairs on the back of your neck feel like porcupine needles, and you’ve stopped breathing. You can see John turn to you out of the corner of your eye, you can see the desperate look in his eyes as he all but begs you to stop before you really start. You feel his panic and his worry and his pleas, but you are gone with those spoken words of Jade’s.

 

“You’re running tests on John.”

 

“Dave, please-

 

“What fuckin’ test, are you runnin’ on John?”

 

John is reaching for you but you’re standing. You walk over to Jade, to strong, beautiful, sweet Jade, who is sitting like an injured bird in your living room. She is lost and fragile and she knows she said something wrong but she’s accepted that, and all she can do is look up at you with this sad, _dead_ expression.

 

“If our friendship means fucking anything, you tell me right the fuck now why you’ve been playin’ doctor with John behind our back.”

 

You are deadly quiet and you voice doesn’t waver like you think it would have. You can feel the silence settling in over the thickness in the air you created. You lock eyes with Jade’s and you don’t see a frightened girl afraid of the crazy blonde guy with swords, but when has she ever been afraid of you? You see the defeat though. You see it cracking her like an egg and pushing her to her breaking point.

You wonder if you’ll see Jade break like Rose and John did. Like how you did. You wonder if anyone will be able to pick up the pieces this time.

 

“I thought…I could help.”

 

The way her voice wavers on those words like an unsteady heartbeat makes you skin crawl with goose bumps and your throat constrict. She says those words like she breaks the news that you’re pet died while you were away or you’re family heirlooms were stolen by your fiancé. You don’t know the details of those words but you know the meaning. You know exactly what she’s really saying because you have heard it before in a thousand different ways all with the same undertone and careful volume.

 

_I’m sorry_

_I fucked up_

 

“And did you help?”

 

You ask it quietly because you already know the answer and so there’s no reason for loud optimism, for false hope, or fake confidence.

She begins to buckle and snap under your words. Her face contorts and her hands shake spastically. Shoulders hunched so drastically her bones look wrong and tortured. She breathes in, and sobs out.

 

“ _No.”_

 

 


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Jade's POV  
> also some sci-fi mixed with actually biology wowa wow

 

 

 

You had chosen the path of science at a young age, going all the way back to your days on the island when the lack of intelligent life brought forth a desire within you to prove yourself _the_ form of intelligent life. You had inherited machinery from your grandfather, and learned not only how to repair it but how it _worked._ You dissected every wire and circuit board and taught yourself what every single part did until you were no longer just repairing, but improving, and eventually building. You created a form of life that breathed through uranium and saw through pixels.

And it didn’t stop there. You worked in the field of organic science too. Genetics, DNA composition, gene splicing, cloning, cell research.

Bacteria and disease research.

Radiation research.

Your major in college was mostly engineering with some industrial design thrown in, but you never lost interest in the study of organic mater. John was much more the expert of the human body, his mind wrapped around how everything already worked and determined in its set goal to unravel all the mysteries behind every known fact. But you didn’t want to go deeper into the already known areas. You had been far too interested in the possibilities, the unknown, the far-fetched and downright impossible.

You and John had wanted to help the world with your studies. You had both grown up together with your shared fascination of science while Dave and Rose took to the creative side of everything.

You and Dave had bought those books after John broke the news, and only after Rose was recovered enough to be on her own did you actually get a chance to look at them.

The problem was, you realized, that you had never intended on using those books. They weren’t the _right_ books.

So you went back to the shop and you went to the section you had been so clearly itching to step into but for whatever reason hadn’t.

You bought the most expensive medical research books the store sold, and drove straight to the college labs you had spent so long lounging in with John while he peered at microscopes. You didn’t even need to say anything to the security guard. You still had an ID from the college that allowed alumni access to work space. Especially alumni with world ranking IQ and corporations all over the place throwing money to.

You don’t know when it hit you that what you were doing was not coping, but denial, but when it did you shed yourself. You peeled away the false smiles you knew weren’t going to last anyways, and gave in to the denial willingly. You can remember the exact day you gave John your last innocent and genuine smile, it wasn’t long after the official date they had. You were all just together as usual, being easily comfortable and satisfied with the presence of each other. In Rose’s flat, cozy with easy disarray, Dave’s head was in Rose’s lap as she played with his hair, his hand curled lightly around John’s. You were leaning on John’s shoulder, reading one of Rose’s recommendations with him, turning the page when need be because he didn’t want to let go of Dave’s hand.

The boys had left first, together of course, and then Rose had looked so fondly, but so sadly after them.

 

_“They’ll love each other more strongly in these days to come than most will ever in lifetimes, and I’m happy for them.”_

Her words were so despairingly _accepting_ then, and they had struck you, and cracked you. Because you realized that that was what everyone was doing. They were accepting, and they weren’t happy about it, but they were still fucking _accepting_.

And you weren’t ready to.

You weren’t a biologist. You weren’t a doctor either. You were an engineer and a sharp shooter. You needed John, because for the first time in your life, you really believed you were about to change the world, even if the world only consisted of three people when you viewed it.

 

_“You know that’s not possible. We’re decades away from that kind of technology, let alone the kind of impact it could have inside organic life.”_

_“John, just hear me out. Writing code isn’t that hard, all we have to do is give it the right code. We could give the human body the ability to fight back! The ability to WIN!”_

_“You’re talking about nanobots, Jade. Microscopic technology separate and independent. Have you ever seen or made something that complex?”_

_“It’s not impossible, it’s just hard. No one thought an artificial intelligence was even close to possible just years ago, but we’re already at the point of creation! If we can just-_

_“You’re talking like Dave. You’re desperate for a solution that doesn’t exist and I don’t want to hear it.”_

_“So you’re giving up without even trying. That’s what you’re saying?”_

_“There’s nothing to give up Jade! Fucking Christ how is it so hard for you to grasp that? I know the human body, and I know my body, and guess what? It’s dying. There’s no what ifs or doubts or whatever ok?!”_

_“If you don’t let me try I’ll spend the rest of my life regretting never doing it. It’ll feel like I just let you die.”_

_He stand across from you looking like a man worn down by decades of exhaustion, and you see the anger fading._

_“False hope isn’t what I need.”_

_“Hope is always something you need.”_

_“I don’t believe in miracles, Jade.”_

_“Neither do I. I’m asking you to believe in science.”_

_There’s a kind of anguish behind his eyes as he looks at you that makes you want to flinch. He takes you in though, so you face him with the confidence you truly have. He hesitates, but when he next speaks his words are soften, questioning and fearful._

_“I…if I did this, and it didn’t work…would I, would anything bad happen?”_

_It’s the question you knew would come, and you have an answer._

_“You might loose a week if something goes wrong, but besides that slim possibility, no.”_

_He looks frightened when you say it, but you can tell he hasn’t thrown your idea out the window. He’s considering your offer, all the up and downs and what he wants._

_“I’ll do it, but we can’t tell Rose or Dave unless we get positive results.”_

_“It’s up to you, I wont say anything.”_

And just like that you got started. John gave you all his old research notes, explained their meaning and went over the complications he expected you to encounter. You made mock up designs, finalized the sketches, worked under 120 strength microscopes, composed 3-D printing files, and programed. Night and day you worked, only stealing John every now and then to explain his notes or help you out. You finished off the first week with not nanobots, but one singular nanobot. You had never been more proud of something you couldn’t see with bare eyes in your life. All of you’re life’s work poured into one single thing, and it happened. It was created by you, it was designed by you, it was a real thing in the world because of you and it was groundbreaking at the least. It wasn’t perfect, its wasn’t even close to perfect with how rushed everything was, but why should you care about perfection if it works? So you made three, it only took a full day to recreate each. It was when you did the first injection did you see the way John’s eyes burned with a contained excitement. He was unwilling to believe what was right in front of both of you, and you were ok with that because you were so sure, so completely sure of yourself and everything you had ever made.

You felt like a God sending your creation into John’s arm, monitoring how it moved and functioned and held. You were powerful, you were above everything with your ability to control to such a degree.

But nothing happened. No change in John’s condition, no destruction of tumors or regrowth of cells. No true break through. Three days of nothing and then you tried a different approach, tried a different code, a different shell for the technology, a different injection. Nothing. You tried again and nothing. You started from scratch all over again, but this time when you asked John to explain a paragraph here or there he spoke with a voice empty of hope and devoid of excitement. He was _humoring_ you and it made you want to scream and cry.

You rushed it, you know you did but you had to. John was falling back into his state of acceptance, insisting that he just spend what time he has left with everyone. You stopped consulting him on his field of science, instead you educated yourself to the finest point and worked yourself ragged. You only called John to you when you had another experiment to try on his sick, dying body. But you rushed, and in the way that wasn’t smart or lucky. It was just sloppy and unfinished and it didn’t work.

But more than that it hurt John. 4 differently programed machines running through his body trying to change the composition of his internal workings and it hurt him. One of them had died, shorted out and cracked, leaving new threats floating in his blood. And the 3rd one had been too big. It wedged itself just under his calf and you were forced to remove it yourself to prevent a clot. And then the 4th, which you had thrown together so desperately that you had forgotten crucial components. It attacked the dormant 2nd and caused internal bleeding along with small burns and unmistakable pain.

Internal bleeding wasn’t something you could fix. You risked a lot just removing the clot. You took him to the hospital and made sure Dave and Rose didn’t find out for not only John’s sake, but also for yours. You wondered if you would ever be able to look the other two in the eyes after so blatantly damaging John. They did scans in the hospital, to make sure the bleeding was under control but also to check on the progression of the tumors and growth. No one detected the nanobots, they weren’t made of real metal and were small enough to go unnoticed. The growth of the tumors welling within John’s body and infesting his lungs proved the limited time left. The rate of the growth throughout his entire body would soon affect his everyday life, and his coughing was already bad. You could hear how he chocked on air, gasped and tried to frantically catch hold of his breath in short seconds.

He told you he had dreams where all the air floated out of his lungs and refused to come back no matter how much he begged. He told you how terrible it had felt, dying like that in his dream.

He told you he hated hospitals. He told you he missed Rose and her calm. He told you he missed Dave and all his comfort. He told you he hated keeping secrets from them but he hated hurting them even more.

He told you he didn’t want to work on the bots anymore.

You dropped him off at home, waiting in your car as you saw the flickering in the window that meant someone’s shadow moved. You knew it was Dave going to encase John in the safety you couldn’t provide. You wouldn’t have been able to see him, not after what you did.

You didn’t drive home. You went right to an old lab you worked at and reexamined everything you had ever worked on, everything you had created. You took what you knew and you reorganized your mind. You broke your thoughts in half and created possibilities. And then you began to work again.

You worked through days and nights and didn’t talk to anyone for full days. You didn’t stop until your hands trembled too much and your vision was so blurry the walls around you looked like stars exploding.

You sleep and you dream that you’re standing on a pile of sticks so high you can see over mountains, but the sticks start to burn and you hear yourself scream as the fire eats off your flesh and your friends voices ring in your ears “burn the witch, she killed John”

 

You go to Rose’s place at 3am and cry while she holds you because you are selfish and scared and a terrible person but you need them, you need them like John needs air, and you sob into Rose until you gather control of yourself. When she asks you just say “John” because it’s enough and it’s not a lie, not really. She lets you leave without more of an explanation, but you realize that when you thought yourself a god, all you were was a monster.

But you’ll be a monster if that’s what it takes. You’ll be ruthless and cold and dangerous. You’ll be anything if it means you can help your friends. So even though he asked you to stop, you called anyways. And it took time but he did come to you, and he did hold out his arm, and you did play your part as the monster.

 

What you created wasn’t one bot or a thousand, it was a form of collective biocells with both organic and nonorganic properties. You created an army to fight inside John’s body, much like how chemotherapy is a form of poisoning as well as a cure. You know the pain was terrible, you could see it when he tried his hardest not to show it. He lets a cough escape, a terrible, shuddering, choking cough that lasted too long and he had to sit down. You watched him and the monitors, but you didn’t move. His coughing died down, leaving him out of breath and tired looking, but his pain had clearly not receded. His heart rate was trying to slow down, and a sheen of sweat had formed on his brow as he struggled, but still you remained separate, detached. And you saw it, you saw the first sign of your created cells rushing to his tumor infected areas through his bloodstream. They divided to concur, and you moved forward to place a hand on John’s shoulder as you just watched the screen you had set up, holding your breath and shaking hard enough for John to feel.

You had allowed yourself to refuse acceptance and continue denial, to deform into the monster you are, all for this moment presented to you. The last hope that you had the ability to do something worth everything. You whispered to John to just hold on, the pain would go away you promise, just a little longer and everything will be better.

Your cells reached his, and you knew what to expect, because whenever your body repairs itself, pain is always a constant. John would have fallen from the chair had you not supported him, and you could tell he was struggling to swallow, his body shivering and sweating as those cells latched onto the tumors. Spasms hit his arm, and he looked close to being sick. Still you held him solid as your eyes locked onto the screen and waited for the final results.

A small tumor just below his ribcage ceased to appear on the screen. You knew you were crying by then, the exhaustion and joy and relief hitting you so hard it hurt, but you kept watching, looking at the biggest tumors growing inside the ribcage, in his lungs. An even smaller tumor forming near his shoulder seemed to dissolve after a wave of your cells swept over it. You gave a small, hysterical laugh, gripping John’s shoulder even tighter. He was too far gone in his struggle to register you, but soon he would be fine, everything would be fine, everything would be so, incredibly, fine.

And then the two main tumors in his lungs became nothing. And you reached down, taking John’s clammy face in your hands, and sobbed. You laughed while you shook with the emotion you didn’t understand and could not place into a category. You could hear John’s weak voice give a small laugh, and you didn’t know if he understood or not, but you laughed with him and cried into him.

You leaned him back into the chair after a moment, allowing him to fall unconscious with the pain reliever you pumped into him as his body recovered from the shock of the battle. You kissed his forehead and turned back to the screen. You laughed again because you were looking at a clean, healthy body scan.

Maybe if you hadn’t been so sure of yourself you would have seen it, but it took you those precious seconds and minutes to fully catch what you didn’t want to see. The way the black clots that were once tumors hadn’t disappeared, but had literally dissolved, and had hidden in their deconstructed form within your own created biocells. Maybe if you had just noticed instead of feeling proud you would have seen how all those tiny bits of tumor were spread like lightning through his entire body instead of destroyed, and maybe you would have seen how they slowed, latched, and claimed more of John than had been claimed before by the cancer.

But you didn’t see it right away. You say it minutes later and those minutes changed everything, because seconds would have affected, but minutes? Minutes destroyed it all. So as you ran to John’s sleeping body and pumped him full of your chemical decomposer to destroy your precious biocells, you knew it was already too late. Because 4 tumors was bad, but you had ignored the main point which was that _cancer is in his cells_ and the cells you made had only moved those cells around, jostled them, and dumped them.

Your cells stopped, dead and useless, soon to leave his bloodstream for good, but the damage was done.

By 2 weeks, the cells you had moved along with the tumor remains would grown and fester like weeds in almost every part of his body, growing faster than they should and coming back in old places stronger, until eventually John would be more tumor than organs. And you realize, as you should have realized before, that monsters do not, and cannot do good things.

Monsters kill. And you are no exception.


	19. Chapter 19

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV

 

You were never angry at Jade. You had already been dying, and she was so desperate in her desire to help, it made it too difficult to be angry with her. You cant be angry at the people grieving for you no matter how much you want to be, because they are sad and hurt because of you so how can you place your frustration on them? You won’t waste your remaining time being angry with the people you love, there’s no point to it.

And it wasn’t Jade’s fault.

You’re convinced it wasn’t her fault because you knew from the start it couldn’t work but you humored her because you thought it would help _her_ deal with everything. You wont lie and say you never had any hope, but you never had any actual confidence.

But the total loss from the experiment still hurt. Not the kind of physical hurt the actual tests put you through, the worse kind. The kind that left your heart burning in a bad way and your stomach twisted in knots and tears just waiting to come out. Because you hadn’t thought about really loosing more of your life span but now you have, and no it was not Jade’s fault, it wasn’t, but it _hurt._

2 weeks where you could have woken up to Dave and eaten breakfast with Dave and invited the girls over to lunch and gone on a walk with Rose and watched movies with Jade and kissed Dave sweetly and kissed him passionately. Minutes gone of gentle words and hours lost of languid touches and days forever unattainable of nothing but warmth and comfort. Those things would be replaced by your absence and their grieving. You would leave them all and you know that just as they had been suffering they would suffer only more. You think about Rose and how she had wept in a drunken stupor, alone and scared. You think about Jade and her unwillingness to take care of herself as she retreated into her mind and didn’t come out. You think about Dave, how he held you so tightly when he cried, and how he wouldn’t have you to hold anymore.

You couldn’t tell Rose or Dave your expiration date had jumped forward by so much because it would hurt them too much.

But here you are, letting Jade explain through slurred words and frustrated tears what had happened. You’ve moved to hold onto her because it gives you the excuse to focus on just her, not the other two in the room you know are starring. You whisper that its not her fault for every time she claims it is, and you rub her arms because they feel thinner and colder than they should. You think she would be crying harder if she wasn’t so out of it, so tired and lost.

 

“I did this, I did this oh god I fucked up so much-

 

“Jade, stop. You didn’t do this on purpose, you can’t blame yourself. Please stop.”

 

“You’re my family, and I _hurt_ you.”

 

She chokes on her words and shakes in your grip.

 

“You didn’t hurt me. You didn’t give me cancer.”

 

“I helped it kill you faster.”

 

“No, you didn’t.”

 

It wasn’t a lie because _she didn’t do anything wrong._

 

All she did was try to help you.

 

“You sure about that?”

 

You snap your eyes towards the person who said those words, though still keeping your head leaned in by Jade. You stare at Dave, observing the way his jaw is set so tightly it looks like something will break. You shake you head just slightly, making sure he caught your warning look.

 

“Yes, I’m sure Dave. None of this was her fault, ok?”

 

You put heavy emphasis on your words because he’s not allowed to go where you think he’s going. He is not allowed to start this argument. You wont allow it, not for your expense, and not for Jade’s.

 

“That’s so fucking weird because you know, it _sounds_ exactly like she went ahead and absolutely fucked right up-

 

“Dave, stop.”

 

“-and used you like a little god damn lab rat to go right the fuck ahead-

 

“DAVE.”

 

“-and play doctor with-

 

“Dave stop _RIGHT now_ -

 

“-to fucking help the cancer _kill_ you.”

 

You lurch forward until you’re standing right in his face, your fists clenched so hard you know your knuckles are white and your face is tinted red with rage. You glare down at him with a look you know could make someone flinch, and even through his shades you know he’s glaring back at you, refusing to move or relax his idiotic poker face.

 

“Take that back, and apologize to Jade.”

 

You don’t raise you voice, instead you keep it quiet and steady because if he can just apologize to her, you can let this go and talk like real adults.

 

“ _No._ ”

 

You stare at him, honestly surprised with the venom in his voice. There’s a tremor running through him, and his ferocity is palpable. He looks murderous, and though you have never been scared of Dave before in your life, looking at how tensed his body really is, how wide his eyes really are behind his shades, you fear for what his anger is directed at.

If he were to attack Jade, either verbally or physically, she would crumble.

 

“Rose, could you take Jade to the other room or something? I really think she needs to go to bed.”

 

You still keep your eyes on Dave, and you don’t know how Rose is handling any of this, but you trust her to keep her head. You can see her silently moving in the corner of your eye, collecting Jade and moving her. You’re glad she’s willing to help you. You’re glad she’s still willing to.

The sound of a door closing echoes for 3 seconds before you loose yourself. You grab the front of Dave’s shirt, pulling him up and hearing seams pop in the process. He doesn’t stop you from yanking off his glasses, nor does he so much as blink as you bring your faces closer, your teeth barred as you all but _growl_ into his face.

 

“What the _fuck_ is wrong with you, you absolute _asshole_?!”

 

He gets out of your grip, moving back too fast for you to catch him again, and burns his glare into your being.

 

“You lied to me.”

 

“I didn’t-

 

“Shut the fuck up right now. You _lied_ to me.”

 

“Oh good, now you’re being angry at me, see that’s ok but you leave Jade the _fuck_ alone Dave.”

 

“Just what the fuck do you think our relationship is, John? You think you can just hide important shit from someone you love? You think you can just leave them in the fucking dust and think oh that’s ok they wont mind!”

 

“I didn’t tell you because I knew you would act like a fucking child and flip your shit-

 

“YEAH? YOU DIDN’T WANT ME TO FLIP MY SHIT? WELL GUESS WHAT JOHN, I AM OFFICIALLY FLIPPING MY SHIT ANYWAYS BECAUSE THE PERSON I LOVE IS A FUCKING DICK _WHO DOESN’T TRUST ME_!”

 

“ _I didn’t want to hurt you!”_

“You chose to _lie_! You fucking _LIED_!”

 

His voice is cold enough to freeze the blood boiling in your veins, but you don’t stop to let him continue. You are angry. You are sad, and hurt, and angry at the world and you don’t want to be angry at him but you are, and maybe you need this and maybe this is a horrible decision, but you don’t back down.

 

“You’re so fucking selfish Dave. You think everything should be about you, but I have Jade and Rose too and I want them to know I love them before I can’t say that anymore. I’m dying now and I’ll be dying tomorrow and soon I will be dead and that’s not changing, but you know what? I’m still alive _right now_ , and I want to live _right now_ and love my friends _right fucking now_ , and you need to get your shit together if you want to be part of that.”

 

You feel so tired. You bones ache and your limbs feel like lead and you want Dave to hold you like he does when he thinks you’re sleeping but you’re so god damn pissed at him too. It hurts that you’re hurting him, it sucks and its terrible but you’re stubborn and angry and _god everything just hurts so much._

 

“So either I let you fuck around and fuck up or I leave, is that it? Be a good little Dave and do what Johnny boy says? Should I start get down on my fucking knees and beg for you not to fuck up bad enough that you get _hurt_?”

 

“You don’t _let_ me do anything. My life is not one of your decisions. You don’t control me and you can’t control what’s happened, but you can apologize for being an asshole to Jade when she wakes up.”

 

“She hurt you-

 

“No, she fucking didn’t she was trying-

 

“I don’t give a shit John! I don’t give a shit what she was _trying_ to do because now I’m not thinking about where I’ll take you out on our next date I’m thinking about your _FUNERAL_!”

 

Without his shades he can’t hide as much. You know he feels betrayed and you can see that, but you don’t feel sympathy. You just feel cold. Somewhere in the back of your mind the image of you in a coffin with eyes permanently shut was residing, and at Dave’s words it comes rushing forward. A pale, lifeless John with a still heart. You are gripped by the reality that that will be you, and that you have so little time left and you already cough like a weak old man so why are you so shocked?

Why are you crying?

 

“Get out.”

 

“No fucking way am I leaving.”

 

“I said _get out_.”

 

“Fuck off I’m not gonna leave you.”

 

“Get the _FUCK_ out of my apartment!”

 

And there it is. You said “my” and not “our”. You can see the confliction in his face and it’s hard to see because you’re already crying harder. He wants to comfort you and he wants to be angry at you. You know because its exactly how you feel.

You don’t know how long it will take him to make the decision so you make it yourself.

 

“I don’t want you around me right now.”

 

And then you see his face, his real face, and you know just how hurt he really is. He looks heart broken and desperate, but it only lasts 2 seconds before it’s gone. You watch his mask go back up after weeks of it going unused, you watch his features fix into a stoic and uncaring appearance. His eyes do not become any less full of the grief and pain, but they don’t look right anymore. You watch Dave withdraw so completely into himself, and it destroys you, but you let it destroy you.

 

“Yeah. Alright fine. Guess I’ll just leave _your_ apartment now.”

 

You’re still letting loose tears fall down your face but you don’t say anything to make sure you don’t sob in front of him. He just stands there and you have to look away because when he looks at you like that, like he’s trying to intimidate a stranger but you know he’s really just so scared, you cant stand it. He’s trying so hard to protect himself, and it’s from you.

You think you seem him hesitate, move towards you just a little but then stop and correct himself. He walks mechanically to the door but doesn’t reach for the handle. There’s a moment when you hope he doesn’t go. When you hope he turns around and just stays and you both be angry and sad at each other. You begin to think he wont even leave and it makes you angry but it also makes you so relieved and you love him, you love him so much that it hurts you.

When you hear the handle of the door click and the creak of the door you still hold onto the last bit of hope that he wont walk outside, that he’ll look back at you and see you with all your faults just crying and he’ll still love you.

There is the movement of his footsteps and an increase of light from the outside world before it disappears, the door shutting gently, locking it out.

And you stand, looking at the door and waiting for what you know wont come. You close your eyes and collapse within yourself, falling down until your back is connecting with the side of the couch and you can burry your head in your knees and scream. You scream because maybe if you let it out that way you wont cry and cry and cry.

You have to stop as soon as you start because the familiar feeling of suffocating envelops you and you cough, harsh and thick. You don’t stop coughing as you sob, vision so blurred by tears you can pretend he’s still there in the room and you just can’t see him.

You never felt like you were actually dying after you were diagnosed, not even after the coughing began. Not even when Jade poked needles in you. You just felt really sick, like you would wake up in a few days feeling better.

You guess its because dying is too strange a word. Or maybe you’re not there yet. Not really. You are deteriorating, bit by bit and day by day with every beat of your heart and exhale of air. Your seams are unraveling. You are withering.

You are fighting.

And you are loosing.


	20. Chapter 20

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Finals have been a bitch. Sorry for late update, I'm horrible at editing

 

 

 

 

When it comes down to it, you just can’t cry.

Your Bro would have said it’s a Strider thing, Striders don’t cry. You don’t know if that was bullshit or if you’re just not up to the full Strider level.

Maybe you don’t cry because grief is not your focal emotion right now. Right now you just feel an emptiness inside you as deep as oceans. The emptiness is numbing, and so you feel an enormous sense of complete nothing.

You have never felt so wrong and inhuman and _bad_ in your entire life. As if you were sick with the flu but it was all if your head and your fever dreams were wonderful and perfect things contorted to nightmares. Rain hits your back and sends unpleasant chills along your skin but you don’t have the capacity to care.

You run your hand through your now wet hair, tugging at it to make sure the pain still exists. You lower your glasses just a small amount to let in the dim light that a rainy day provides.

You’ve been walking past your old apartment building and turning around at random points and walking back. Back and forth, like a hand on a clock, broken and unable to move forward, just twitching in place. You are soaked to the bone, and cold.

You realized halfway to your old apartment that it wasn’t actually yours anymore. Someone probably lived there, in that space you considered yours, and you cant even go up.

You have no place to go because your real home is with John, and he told you to leave.

The emptiness inside you expands, and pushes your heart to your throat just at the thought of him. You think you’re choking on heartbeats, and it’s hard to breathe right.

You just stop moving. You bring your legs to a halt, and you just stop. You pretend that time stands as still as you, that you can move all the seconds and minutes and hours to your pleasing. You imagine you can skip back days and weeks and months and years even.

You imagine telling John you love him years ago. You imagine telling him to get himself checked out by a doctor. You imagine waiting for a small surgery to take place where a very small tumor is removed and that’s the end of it. You imagine kissing him after its done, and you imagine that in the present day but a different timeline you would be walking with John, hand in hand, maybe with matching engraved rings on certain fingers of certain hands, maybe smiling with Jade and Rose.

It’s so easy to imagine and pretend and envision. Its like all of it already exists, and you’re just looking at pictures that mark certain moments.

You know what you’re doing is cruel to yourself. You don’t care.

A selfish bastard. That’s exactly what you are. You are the selfish bastard that kept John all to yourself and thought only of yourself because he was yours, he was all yours but he wasn’t. You were not the one suffering the most. Your pain was no greater than his, probably no greater than Rose or Jades. If Rose was dying would you suffer any less, feel a loss any greater? Would you cry over Jade, and feel angry if someone else spent more time with her than you?

But you don’t hold Jade or Rose in your sleep and dream of living immortally with them. You don’t wake up with the warmth of their bodies pressed against you and a smile on your face. You don’t kiss them on the lips and see stars explode and lightning strike.

You do not love Rose and Jade the way you love John Egbert.

And god does loving him hurt.

The emptiness rips at you, and you begin to realize that all the numbness inside was just a wall, trying to keep the crushing emotional storm from hitting you full force.

You feel it coming, and you are terrified, because this could be it. This could be your breaking point and you’re not ready, you wont be able to handle it.

You deal with this like you deal with most of your problems; you run away.

You run the easy 2 miles to Rose’s flat in less than 8 minutes. You’re not sweating, but you pant and gasp for breath because you feel the emptiness exploding.

You don’t know if Rose will be willing to help you or not, you really don’t. You know you deserve to get kicked out of John’s life and you know you deserve to get punched by Jade and you’re scared Rose will leave you on her steps, ignoring you with a silence so heavy it will crush you flat.

You walk up the few steps to the main door and you ring the buzzer for “Lalonde” and you wait.

There’s no answer, and you don’t know if its because she isn’t there or if she’s ignoring you, so you just wait.

You stand for 23 minutes, and then you sit down.

You think about John and love and death and emptiness and you think you’re starting to have a panic attack so you curl into yourself and squeeze your legs to your chest and try to become nothing. The browning wet leaves on the cement and naked trees remind you that the warmth summer held no longer exists, and soon it will rain more than usual. The cold pricking your wet skin will have a harsher bit in just a week, and it will be snowing eventually.

You wonder if the ground will be too hard to dig a grave in after winter hits.

You want to disintegrate into stardust and disappear into the wind, because John always loved the wind and the sky so maybe he’ll love you again if you’re part of it. Maybe if he was the wind itself you could love him for the rest of your life.

You sit on the steps to Rose’s building for a very long time. You could guess how long down to the second and probably be pretty close to right because your sense of time is a little too accurate at times. But you don’t guess because you don’t care. Time is not part of your life right now, because if you let time control you and dictate your life you’ll have to accept that you are dying every day and John is dying every second. Your life consists of the moment for now. The moment that is wet and cold and lonely but still yours. It is not a beautiful moment or one that you want to remember but it is a moment in time that will soon become your past as you move forward and begin to acknowledge time once more as a power out of your reach.

Rain falls, leaves wilt. You shiver, people pass. The sun does not come out, but the light still dims.

You wait.

The cold numbs your fingers. It kisses your bones and touches your neck like an old lover. It clings and rips at your wet clothes. It buries into your chest and stays there.

You hate the cold but like the numbing affect it brings.

If it snows on John’s grave maybe you can just stay there and let the snow numb you to sleep.

Maybe you could sleep next to John’s grave in the snow and never wake up.

 

“You’re going to kill yourself with the combined strength of your stubbornness and stupidity.”

 

You look up, for the first time noticing it really is dark. Rose’s features are sharp in the streetlight. You don’t say a word and she looks down at you. You know how you look to her. You know you are curled into yourself and wet and shaking with eyes like a ghost.

She walks past you and unlocks the door, but you don’t stand. You wait for the invitation.

 

“I don’t have any men’s clothes for you to borrow but my bathrobe is long enough. Put your clothes in the dryer and please avoid soaking my rugs.”

 

The click of door echoes in your ears as you stand, and silently you follow her to the elevator. She keeps enough distance that she doesn’t get wet just by contact, and you like to think it’s only because of your wetness that she keeps her distance.

You’re not a complete idiot though, and you know her anger towards you is there. It’s not large and terrible, but it is defined and ready to be unleashed. You don’t feel afraid of her scorn and biting words though. You’re still too numb.

She unlocks her own door and places her own jacket on a large hook while you slip off your shoes. You close the door behind you and begin undressing in the doorway, stripping down to your thankfully not see-through boxers. Rose appears with her fluffy pink bathrobe and it goes to your ankles, wrapping you in a phantom of heat, only ghosting the edges of your skin. She looks at you as you just stand there, not sure if you’re shivering or if you’re imagining you are.

When she touches your cheek you flinch, not because of the contact, but because it shocks you with contrast of her warmed hand and your frozen flesh.

 

“How long were you outside?”

 

You try to speak once but nothing comes out, and you give up immediately. You give a small shrug instead.

 

“Maybe you should take a hot shower, you’re absolutely frozen. Please tell me you’ve at least eaten something in the last few hours.”

 

Again, you shrug.

 

“Good lord Dave go take a shower while-

 

“I know I fucked up, you don’t have to stall the lecturing by pretending to be a damn mom.”

 

You could have been nicer, it wouldn’t have been hard. But you’re using the excuse that you are sad and angry and life sucks.

 

“Funny, I don’t think anyone would associate me with a mother if it wasn’t for the fact that I was constantly dealing with your childishness. Now kindly shut the complete fuck up, I’m going to make some tea.”

 

You didn’t expect such a smooth and tempered response. You words didn’t even scratch the surface of her shell, and you realize that she has not only been prepared for this more than you, but she is more capable when it comes to dealing with the circumstances you’re in. she is ahead of you, as usual.

 

“Wow, I just got dumped by my dying boyfriend and you’re calling me a child? You are one stone cold bitch. Its like oh hey so everything is my life sucks who should I go to for advice? Well gee how about that Lalonde chick she sure knows how to call you names and be-

 

“John didn’t break up with you, moron. His life has just been cut even shorter than it was, you insulted his friend- _our_ friend, who was mentally and physically unstable, proceeded to yell at him, and then left. He was angry and sad and you made it worse. He needed you more than anything at that time and you chose to be irrational and selfish.”

 

You’re enraged by how calmly she throws those harsh words at you, all without even looking. You want to scream at her to shut the fuck up, that she doesn’t know what she’s even talking about, that she has no idea how he even feels.

 

“You-

 

“I told you to shut up, Dave. I didn’t invite you up here to coddle you. I’ve spent the last couple hours watching over Jade and helping John release some of his anxiety and deal with a bit of his depression. If you want to be comforted, fine. But not until you come to terms with the fact that what you did was wrong and that you have the ability to fix it.”

 

“…Johns not depressed.”

 

“Yes, he is. He’s been going to his therapist weekly. He’s dealing with it very well though. I think that’s partly because you made him so happy.”

 

You don’t miss the past tense of her words. You DID make John happy, but now you’ve only made him very upset.

You’re selfishness made you bitter, and made you feel entitled to an unfairness that wasn’t yours. Now all that’s left for you to see is the lone selfishness below all those layers of hurt you wanted to broadcast everywhere. Because once you would have not only watched the world burn before you hurt John, you would have set the flame, would have poured the gasoline and lit the match and stood in the burning inferno until your skin melted off and bones turned to ash. You would have done so a thousand times if it meant John could just be happy and you would have done it until the end of time if John could just live to be 60 or 50 or even 40.

What changed that made you step outside of that flame and let John burn instead while you ignored it?

 

“Tell me what to do, please Rose.”

 

“Make it up to him.”

 

“I don’t know how.”

 

“Start by going back and apologizing.”

 

“That’s not enough.”

 

“Then take the next step.”

 

You had only mentioned it once, maybe twice, just an offhand remark. There’s no way she could actually know that you have the next step with John completely planned out.

 

“It would be a big step…”

 

“Yes. It would be.”

 

Is she fucking with you or does she know?

 

“Now isn’t the right time.”

 

“True, but you’ll have to do it sooner rather than later. But yes, I would not suggest going back to John and proposing tonight.”

 

Holy shit how-

 

“How did you _know?_ ”

 

How the absolute dicking fuck did she know? Did she fucking follow you? What the complete fuck?

 

“Honestly? I mostly guessed and predicted. You have patterns, Strider.”

 

“You didn’t-

 

“No, don’t insult me, I didn’t go tattle on you to anyone.”

 

“So you really think-

 

“That you should do it? Yes. Absolutely.”

 

Holy shit.

Holy _shit._

 

You think about how many times you’ve considered taking the last step with John. You think about how many times you’ve passed that store with the little display. You think about how many times you’ve envisioned that ring on his finger that would match that one on yours.

 

“It’s too much, he’ll freak out.”

 

“It would make him so happy, I don’t think you understand Dave.”

 

“But, what if we do, and he says yes, but there isn’t time…”

 

“The meaning doesn’t go away or loose any less value if the actual events never unfold. As long as the meaning was real and the intent was honest, that’s all you need.”

 

“I cant burry him with a ring that stands for an unfulfilled promise.”

 

“Then you are a coward.”

 

That hurt.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“Do you never jump because you’re worried you’ll fall every time? If you do fall, are you unwilling to ever jump again? Dave, your entire relationship with John is an unfulfilled promise of a _future,_ but you wont _have_ a future together. That doesn’t mean you wont have any love though, you _do_ and it’s so obvious and _brilliant_ and wonderful but Dave, you have _got to understand those things_.”

 

“ _Why would you say that_?”

 

“Because it’s _TRUE_.”

 

You feel sick. She looks at you with a cold determination, a complete detachment to her words. She is so gone, and it is horrible and wrong. Everything she says is _wrong_.

 

“It is not an unfulfilled promise, fuck it is _not_. We didn’t move in together thinking we would grow old in that apartment. We didn’t say we loved each other thinking we would fucking say it for years to come. We knew god damnit we _did_ , fucking hell we do know god shitting fuck Rose why are you making me say this shit!”

 

She just keeps looking at you, and its not ok, its not ok you are going to throw up.

 

“You sit there and you fucking judge me, you go ahead and then you can just fuck right off. How would you know what our relationship really is, how would you know what our love is fucking like, huh Rose? You think you’re imaginary love is so much better?”

 

She twitches in her spot and you would smile if you felt any real triumph or joy.

 

“Don’t you take my story and twist it into your excuse, Strider. Don’t take _MY_ love-

 

“ _What_ love? _YOU DON’T HAVE ANY FUCKING LOVE_!”

 

“Just because you love him differently doesn’t mean you love him more, you sad excuse for a decent human being.”

 

“Are you jealous of our tragic little story, Rose? Do you envy my position here, is that it? You-

 

She slaps you, quick and unexpected even for you. You don’t remember her moving, just it happening and the sting on your skin being real. The worst part is her eyes, because she still looks detached. A ghost just moving inside that body, not Rose. And you know, you know Rose is there and you are hurting her so badly she feels the need to do this, you could stop but you don’t. You cant.

 

“So who do you envy more, just curious; John, or me?”

 

“I pity you.”

 

“Do you wish you had a dying lover?”

 

“You disgust me.”

 

“Why don’t you just throw me out like everyone else then?”

 

“I cant.”

 

“Why not?”

 

“Because I love you and you are my family.”

 

You finally see the flicker. You see her return to her body and push the ghost out, and it makes you feel relieved and scared. You can tell she’s really back because the cracks in her composition are bursting and breaking into holes, from which the tears begin to leak out.

 

“I love him too, Dave. He’s part of my family too.”

 

She’s right. She’s always right and you hate it. You remain silent. He hand is still a little raised. Your cheek still stings.

 

“All he ever does is love, and he loves you so much…”

 

You have nothing to say. You have said everything already you wanted to and didn’t want to.

 

“I love him so much. He’s part of my only family in this entire decrepit world. He’s a brother to Jade and he’s been such an important friend to me.”

 

She coughs, a poor cover for a sob.

You see her misery falling out of her and it hurts you more than any slap. You don’t feel triumph anymore. You just feel like a fucked up selfish bastard again.

 

“…He loves you too Rose.”

 

“John can love anything. Even fucked up little things like us.”

 

“No one can love anything. It’s impossible. He has to like us for _some_ reason.”

 

“I suppose. The reason will forever be lost on me though.”

 

There’s a longs stretch of silence. Rose’s tears stop. She wipes them away like she brushes dust off her coat. You speak first because you get the feeling she’s waiting.

 

“…You should hate me.”

 

“And yet I never really do.”

 

“I love you Rose.”

 

“I love you too. Even when you’re an asshole.”

 

“So all the time then?”

 

A small watery smile breaks through and you move a little bit closer. The hands at her side seem to relax. It’s a small movement, gentle and light, but it’s a start. You are walking on eggshells for the moment though, and you aren’t bitter about this.

 

“This is going to be a very long night, Dave.”

 

You have to agree on that.

 

You need to start over, even for just this moment.

 

 

“Tell me how you’re doing, Rose.”


	21. Chapter 21

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV  
> short chapter, next one will be sooner

 

 

You dream of his eyes for a long time.

They are beautiful in so many ways, and you love them with an impossible amount of your heart.

They are always bright, even when the night is cool and subdued and it’s darker than rainy midnight. They pierce through the air and you can feel them and its never an intrusion, always an invitation and a comfort.

They love to find your own eyes. They love to lock into you and keep you trapped and you love it too.

He is always afraid that one day they will scare you, but all they ever do is attract. You see everything of him in those shades of red, the good and the bad, and you will take all of it every single time.

 

Even now when it’s so late it’s just early and sleep has left because the dreams became nightmares. Those beautiful eyes left you and were replaced by your tombstone in your subconscious mind, and you awoke with a soar neck and fast breath.

 

You get angry at yourself when you reach for his hand and remember he’s not there. But then you’re not angry and you’re just upset.

Jade sleeps so heavily you don’t even need to silence your footsteps as you make it to the kitchen. You start the coffee maker up because even if you could fall asleep now, you don’t want to. Seeing his eyes would just make you angry and sad. Seeing your own death again would be harsh torment by this point. You are being teased by your own mind about reality and all the horrors with it.

You could watch TV or a movie, you could write music or fuck around but all you can do it sit while you wait for the coffee to be made.

You should eat. You know you need to eat more but food feels like tasteless weight to you now, and everything sweet seems so bitter. You take your coffee black now because cream and sugar doesn’t make a difference. You like that you can still taste the bitterness that’s supposed to be there.

 

You drink black coffee and tell yourself you’re not thinking about Dave’s eyes, even though you are.

You wont say you miss him because you don’t.

But you do.

It makes you feel pathetic how much you crave him just being there, and it hasn’t even been a day. Not even 12 hours. You want to feel only anger towards him, and you are still angry and sad and upset in general, but you miss him.

You want him to be there so you can be angry _at_ him, and sad _at_ him, and upset _at_ him, and then he can just be there for you.

You love him so much and this is why it hurts. Because yeah, you’ve loved Dave for years but you didn’t know he loved you back and you weren’t in a relationship with him. There are billions of new ways to get hurt and to hurt now and it sucks.

But there are billions of ways to feel a brand new love and joy and pleasure and its so much more amazing to live just feeling it.

Waking up with him in your arms, or you in his. Easy afternoon kisses and intimate, secret touches in the middle of the day. Smiles that mean more than at first glance and bemused chuckles at bad habits you don’t mind sharing because you trust each other.

You are still angry and sad and upset with Dave, but you will not deny how much you love him. And you wont deny that what you have right now? You’re ok with just this. Having this love with Dave would be enough, and you really think you could die with just this and be content.

You don’t want to die still, you don’t want to wither away. You don’t want to leave Dave or Jade or Rose and you don’t want to disappear, but knowing that you’ll still have this kind of love when you die does make it easier.

It’s also why it’s so much harder now though.

Because it would be easy to let go when you’re not holding on that tightly to begin with, but you said you loved him in that way and he said it back and now you’re not just holding him, you are wrapped around him and stuck so impossibly tight to him and the process of being ripped away will hurt.

You will hurt him in the end, and it sucks.

Everything just kind of sucks at the moment.

 

A violation of air enters your broken organs and you cough, harsh and racking. You have to put your mug down so you can grasp your throat, begging your body to relax, relax, just relax.

You lean over the table but its not enough, its wont work its not enough you need to lean over and let the air fall out of you like a weight. You push the chair back enough to allow your knees to slip to the floor and your elbows to kiss the tiles, hands still trying to support the esophagus. You try to breathe. It hurts, but you can. Its hard, like running up stairs after a full day of sprinting, you keep thinking you can’t do it, there’s no energy left, you can’t, but you have to. You have to get up those god forsaken steps and BREATHE.

The air makes you dizzy when you get a full inhalation. It still hurts, it will continue to hurt, but breath returns and the ground is cool and still under you.

You lean down enough to brush your head to the tiles, comforted by their smoothness. It is still, and you take deep, heavy breaths, letting the world slow with your heartbeat.

You breathe in, and you breathe out.

You could get up, you could go back to Jade in your room, or the table with your coffee, or the couch even. But you don’t get up.

You kneel, hunched over with your back as a curved shield, protecting you from another invisible attack on your already trampled body. You curl into yourself more and more until you are a ball of wire that is tensed and knotted and contorted. You count seconds between breath and try to find a rhythm to match your heart.

You love your heart. You love how even though everything seems to have turned to shit your heart keeps beating. It is strong and beautiful and orchestrates everything inside you and never gives in. it beats for you everyday and drums out melodies of existence. It could have given up on you by now, it could have been consumed by tumors and swallowed by neglect but it still beats for you.

The floor is comfortable and smooth on your skin, and even the sharp jutting of your bones that didn’t used to be there doesn’t complain about being pushed against stones. You are safe with your beating heart and even breaths, safe between the chair and the cabinets and below it all. You are safe in your singularity. Alone you can only hurt yourself and let yourself be hurt. You cannot hurt other people here on your kitchen floor. You are safe here.

You are safe in the silence, and the silence is kind and gentle.

Images in your mind flash to crimson irises and you allow them to fill your view behind closed lids. The world seems so gentle, so insignificant and impossibly important all at once.

You didn’t think you were tired and you didn’t want to sleep but you fall into slumber aware that you are falling. Descending into sleep seems graceful, even on the floor of your tiny kitchen.


	22. Chapter 22

 

 

 

 

 

You could stand outside the door for another minute or an hour or a day and it wouldn’t make a difference. John would still be behind it and you would still have to confront his anger and sadness, just as you had to confront Rose’s grief. All negative emotions which you caused, but fuck it all if you wont deal with them. You don’t have time for putting things to the side and being indecisive. John would probably be asleep of course, it was roughly 4am judging by the light filtering through the sky.

You have a key, you do live here after all. John didn’t ask for the key, or maybe he just forgot to ask for it. But the key rests in your hand, heavy and small with rough edges and tiny scratches. John had given you this key and you had used it to open the door leading to a place you both called home together. You had unlocked the door when his arms were full of groceries. You had fumbled with it when frantic hands clutched your face and warm lips collided with yours. You had used it to sneak up on John and scare the shit out of him. He had kissed you so sweetly when he placed it in your hand and your heart had fluttered like a bird trying to fly for the first time. The key you hold has memories attached and joys associated.

But you still hesitate to use it.

You slip down to the floor and lean on the opposite wall, facing the door you want to open but just cant.

You never hesitated in your youth. You never hesitated with anything other than John, because with John one wrong step and a mine could go off and you could loose a friend you valued so tremendously. John taught you to think before you act when all you had ever done before was act and act in the strongest ways, act in the best ways, act in the coolest ways. When you did things you didn’t regret it because you never looked back long enough to find fault in your actions. But all of that changed so completely when you became best friends with John. He pointed out you flaws and you listened, and you began to understand your own errors and you began to really listen to Rose’s advice and Jade’s warnings. You were taught how to acknowledge fault by John Egbert, and in turn you began to teach him how to possess confidence.

If you were the same little shit as back in middle school, or hell even high school, you might have busted that door down an hour ago, marched up to John and hashed all the shit out and kissed the fuck out of that boy. But you’re not some teenager anymore. You’ve learned the real consequences of life and the results of rash behavior. It faced you when you were standing over the body of your brother, it faced you when you attended two more funerals later for the guardians of your friends. It faced you only a few weeks ago when John, wonderful, beautiful, adorable, charming, compassionate John, told you he was dying.

And now every action requires thought because everything could mean something and the things you used to ignore or not care about suddenly mean everything.

You don’t even know what to do if you go in and he’s asleep, which he really should be. You don’t want to be the creepy boyfriend that stares at their sleeping partner like a psychopath. But if you could just see him, just see that’s he’s ok and just, alive and shit, you swear you’ll leave and find a hotel or probably just walk around for the last hours of the night. You don’t want to knock because Jade should b sleeping but if you don’t knock and you just walk right in that could be crossing a line.

You have to take small steps and you don’t know how to do that. You were taught to run as fast as you could and jump the highest and now you don’t know how to slow your movements and breath calmly.

You stand up and wipe your hands on your shirt, trying to remove the feeling of nervous sweat.

You take the one full step it takes to position yourself directly in front of the door and you fit the key in the lock with shaking hands. You don’t turn the knob, not yet, you have to take a deep breath and calm down. Its not like John would be with someone else fucking on the couch, no John was too good a person to cheat and too caring to hurt and who else did he even talk to besides you, Jade and Rose?

So what are you really worried about? That he’ll see you and kick you out again and say he doesn’t love you?

Well actually that’s exactly what your so pissing terrified of.

You are not expecting forgiveness. You aren’t, and you wouldn’t deserve it if you did get it. You just.

You just want John.

Not even sexually or selfishly right now. You just want him in your life even in the most minimal way. You need his voice daily and his smile constantly and you are so in love with that man you swear you have a mental condition because you are going insane.

You open the door because your thoughts are too much, too scrambled and too panic driven. You open it slowly so it doesn’t squeak and only wide enough to slip in before you close it quickly and gently. You lift your shades because the room is already so dark and you look towards the cracked door to the bedroom.

He’ll be in there, sleeping by Jade of course, he wouldn’t leave her even after she was passed out. You already know he’s hunched over the bed with his arm awkwardly positioned and his mouth just a little open as he sleeps.

You take steps as light and smooth as silk and peer through the crack left open. You can tell the mass of black hair on the bed is Jade’s, sticking every which way and covering more space than the blankets. You don’t see John though. Maybe he’s on the other side of the bed, blocked by Jade?

You move into the room, feeling like a complete stalker while doing so, but only going in enough to look over the other side of the bed.

No luck. No John.

You leave the room quickly, almost flash stepping to the couch to look. No blankets, no extra pillows, no John.

You begin to panic. If he went for a walk by himself he could be anywhere. He could be cold and wet and tired and if he started to cough really badly he might fall and he could hit his head and shit fuck shit god fucking shit.

You do flash step to the door this time, almost wrecking it open because fuck if you care if the thing creaks-

A noise comes from kitchen. A mix between a growl and a moan and half pathetic and half adorable.

You notice the coffee machine has been on then, and when you walk in to look at it your heart jumps to your throat as you look down.

He’s lying on the floor.

He is lying on the cold sterile floor by himself and you don’t know if you can see him breathing.

Oh god please no no no no no-

You hunch over him and grab his wrist the same time you place your head over his chest.

A pulse jumps and his chest rises and falls.

You release your breath and you’re shaking so hard you need to let go of his hand. You need to calm down and breathe because you are having a panic attack.

John is fine John is alive John is breathing John is fine he is fine calm down he is fine calm down.

He stirs a little and you keep practicing your breathing. You still your shaking and you just breathe in and out. When the feeling of chocking and panic dies down you look down at John.

You can’t fully relax because why would he be on the ground? Did he faint? Did he actually fall and hit his head?

You place a hand on his cheek, glad it feels warm under your fingers. You whisper his name, letting the sound that equals his title fill the space around your ears and fall upon him like petals from a dying flower.

Two bleary, gorgeous eyes open a fraction.

They are the most beautiful thing you have ever seen in your life and you cannot imagine a world without that color.

 

“…tryin to sleep…”

 

His whisper touches your ears like a feather on skin and then his eyes close, lightly, so lightly and easily. He breathes in, and he breathes out, and you know he’s asleep.

You are worried, you are terrified and so completely scared that he might not be ok, and you are struck with the obvious which is that _you don’t know what to do_.

 

“John? John why are you on the floor? Can you hear me? Are you hurt?”

 

“…shhh, tired.”

 

Does he even know it’s you? He couldn’t, right? But he’s moving, body heavy with fatigue, but moving closer to your body leaned over his. He doesn’t touch you, not really, but he curls into your side, and his warmth touches your being like fire.

Who else but John would fall asleep on the floor of a kitchen?

You are struck so hard by how much you love him, but how much you wish it was this easy to go back to things. You wish he would wake up from his strange sleep and look at you with a tired smile and shining eyes and everything would be ok.

But life doesn’t give out miracles and you never deserved one anyways, so John will wake up and see you and he will push you away and probably leave you again. His beautiful eyes will be colored with hurt and when he wakes up, curled next to you, he will push away and move away.

When he sleeps he is so at peace in image. Relaxed muscles and calm face.

If you could just stay here, like this, just for a little while, just to make sure he’s ok, you could justify it. You can sit here with John so easily sleeping by your side with your fingers in his hair and gentle eyes and you could think everything was ok. You could pretend the ribs sticking out under his shit don’t exist and the tremors in his breathing are just noises from the radiator.

You can pretend the world is fixed and easy and understanding and FAIR for a small period of time.

You can sit where you are with John by your side and pretend nothing is wrong.

Just until he wakes up.

Just for an insignificant amount of time that counts down in your head and ticks in your ears.

You never were religious and you certainly aren’t now, not if a higher being was letting this happen to John. But you _are_ a desperate man, and like many desperate men you want to look above yourself and the small world and seek help from something powerful and easy to blame.

You do not pray for a miracle because miracles don’t exist, hell, you don’t even pray because what did praying ever do for you or for anyone you ever knew?

But you do beg. A silent shout in your mind reaching upwards to a place you cannot see or imagine, begging for John to sleep easily and dream of something good and sweet. You beg to heaven and hell that John can be happy under the blanket of sleep and wake with the ghost of a smile and a heart just a minuscule amount lighter.

And you want to plead and cry for John to go to heaven with all the good in his soul shining down on you but you cant believe that such a place exists. You cant but god do you wish you could.

Because if you believed in a heaven or a God or anything at all then you could blame and reason and pray and believe.

But you are not a religious person, and you never will be. And even though you don’t believe in miracles you still beg for one. And you beg to something or someone you know logically does not exist.

There’s a face between your hands as gentle as an angels, and hair in your fingers softer than wings, and the boy they belong to is made of light and innocence.

He is so above anything else in or outside of your world that if you did pray, you would pray to him, and knowing him he would answer your prayers with his life if you asked.

So you don’t know who or what you’re begging to, but as you hold John in your hands you do beg.

 

Maybe there isn’t a god or gods or whatever else there could be, but if anyone were more fitted for the role of a god, it would be John.

For he would rise above all despair and suffering and breathe new joy and life and love into this minuscule, insignificant, broken planet.


	23. Chapter 23

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV

 

 

_You have never felt so free in your entire life._

_Bound by no bones or flesh you are weightless._

_You are air itself, and the wind is your heartbeat, your fingertips, you eyes and nose and ears, and your voice._

_You are not ugly or beautiful, just wind and air in all invisible force, acting upon everything as both hurricane and breeze, powerful hit and gentle touch._

_As air you cannot die, and as wind you never truly leave, only sleep and reawaken._

_You are eternal. You will touch the earth on its creation and on its destruction. You will breathe in, and breathe out, and life will expand._

_You are free, so vividly free and light in this nonexistent body._

_You are air, and you are wind._

_But the air around you is thick, it becomes too thick, too constricting._

_Bones and flesh become your body, and you are aware that that is your vessel to which you must return._

_You fight it, though you don’t know what_ it _is. But you fight, as air itself you fight, bringing forth whirlwinds and tornadoes._

_You will not be bound by the broken body you once wore._

_You will not enter such a dreaded carcass of a body, not when all the space is yours to fill and all the land is below you._

_You are being pulled down, down, down into the body. Sucked in like a vacuum, clawing with nothing at the empty sky to keep you, to let you stay, to keep you and not let you be dragged back into such a heavy, terrible, disgusting thing._

_And then you are clawing at the air with human hands. Your own human hands with short nails and rough callouses and the occasional scratch._

_You begin to fall, no longer weightless and perfect._

_As you fall you scream in agony and anger, for your body is painful and weak, and falls like a rock through the lovely air you once were._

_You plummet back to the ground and you hear the way your bones crunch into dust and your skin falls apart while your blood mixes into soil. You see your own body lie broken and horrific, left alone to rot and disappear as the vision before your eyes turns bright and then black._

_You end as a solitaire life._

You don’t wake up suddenly with a jolt. Instead your body wakes up slowly, your eyes taking in the soft light lazily, blearily. You remain still and wrap your mind around everything you know is real and everything you know isn’t.

You are not dead. You did not fall. You can breathe. You are still dying. You are not dead yet.

Your neck is stiff and uncomfortable, the pillow you’re resting on feeling hard. There is no blanket and your toes are curled with chill.

The texture of your bed under your fingers is too smooth and cold to really be your bed, and after focusing on your actual surroundings, you come to the conclusion that you’re lying on the kitchen floor.

Your pillow is also made of denim, and is more human than pillow actually.

You wonder when he came back. You wonder _why_ he came back.

He’s leaning against the cabinets, back angled awkwardly and head drooping forward, mouth slightly open with glasses falling off his face. He has one hand on his lap, fingers just grazing your hair, while the other is lightly thrown over your collarbone. His shoes look wet.

You hate the way seeing him makes you so _happy_ and _sad_ at the same time. You want to sob and scream into his lap and tell him to fuck off, get lost, leave. You want him to hold you and never let go and always be with you and say he loves you. You want to hit him and you want to hug him.

If he doesn’t wake up you can stare without facing your problems. You could try and go back to sleep, and dream of being wind and air instead of burdened by a tumor filled body.

As if in retaliation to your own thoughts, your throat decides to constrict, and you feel a burning, aching, sharp pain in your chest and under your ribs.

Coughing wont do anything because there’s nothing in your throat to dislodge, but your body’s response is still acting on reflex and doesn’t listen to your will.

You cough as you usually do, violently and shaking as you try in vain to suck air in when it keeps trying to leave you.

The denim pillow jolts and you close your eyes to concentrate on calming down, you can breathe, you can breathe, all you have to do is _breathe_ , you’re ok. You let yourself cough and shudder through the actions, curling your spastic body into itself, making yourself more compact, slightly more stable. There is a hand on your back that rests firm and steady, and you think he might be saying something but words are lost on you. You need to focus on getting the air in because you need to BREATHE.

Eventually the coughing becomes less rough, almost gentle compared to the beginning. You suck in air heavily, taking large, trembling gulps of it. You pant like a runner trying to calm their breathing after miles of sprinting, and slowly, so terribly slowly, you breathe regularly and evenly.

Your eyes are squeezed shut and you are a ball of clenched muscle but you refuse to move. The hand on your back is shaking though your body has stilled, and it feels heavy in a comfortable way. You let you eyes relax until they are just barely closed, and then you let them flutter open like the wings of a moth. Your body is turned inwards to him, and the first thing you see is his stomach, so close its almost touching your face.

You could stay there, you could, but it wouldn’t solve the problems you have and it would be time wasted that you can’t afford to waste. So you push back a little, struggle slightly, and tilt you head up to look in those red eyes.

They are filled with concern and are wide with alarm. They are open for you to search, and they are begging you for something but neither you nor they know what. They are luminous in the darkened kitchen.

Carefully, like touching cracked porcelain, his other hand comes to hover just above your cheekbone. You can see it out of the corner of your eye the way it wavers and flits away like a injured bird, fluttering over your shoulder, your forehead, your hair, your cheek again, unable to land. It gives up and turns to a fist, which falls outside of your vision and away from your body. The other hand on your back remains firm though.

His mouth is opening and closing, but you will not look away from his eyes.

You wonder what you look like to Dave. You wonder what he sees when he looks down at your cough shaken body and your tired eyes. You wonder if there is anger in your eyes, or love or fear or grief.

You know things about Dave that you didn’t know in high school or college. One of those things is how exactly you can hurt him the most. You know because you try so hard not to all the time, but you do know how.

You know that if you got up without sparing him a glance and went into your room to check on Jade he would watch you go and probably not follow. You know if you closed the bedroom door behind you he would probably shrink into himself and freeze his own heart so that when he left he could do it with a straight face.

You know that if you told him to leave, right now, he would break above you and dissolve into a shadow of himself.

These are some of the ways you know how to hurt him. They are the ways you know exactly how to remove him from your life, if only temporarily. They are not just cuts you will leave on his body, they are bullet holes that wont heal right.

And you love him too much and too strongly to even consider carrying out any of those acts. Because as much as you want to hurt him, for all the hurt he has caused you, hurting Dave will only make you hurt more.

And when your life is numbered by days you aren’t willing to spend a single one lost and alone when he could be at your side so willingly.

 

“Why did you come back?”

 

It’s the question you choose to ask. There is no malice in it, it’s an honest question. How he answers will affect the direction of what both of you do next, just as every action you choose opens a different path.

 

“Because I love you. And I was worried. And I saw you on the floor and I thought something happened and I don’t know what happened but you were fucking sleeping on the floor and who the shitting dicks falls asleep on the kitchen floor John? You do. You fell asleep on the fucking kitchen floor and I come in here and see you lying there and have a fucking heart attack like Jesus you’re just-fucking lying there-

 

He breaks eye contact with you and you watch him blink rapidly and breathe fast and press his palm into your back. You didn’t think anyone would come in so you didn’t consider anything when you fell asleep on the floor. You didn’t realize just how bad that would look to someone who probably fears finding you like that, not breathing and unmoving.

 

“I’m sorry. I was such an ass. I was, fuck I can’t use an excuse this is all on me and I was a bastard. I love you, and I overreacted.”

 

You lift your hand carefully, taking his fluttering fingers and stopping them from shaking in the air. He doesn’t look back at you but his weary face is so pained and choked. He wraps his fingers around your hand and squeezes hard, and you squeeze back.

 

“You need to apologize to Jade.”

 

He looks like he is shrinking into himself, ashamed. He should be for yelling at Jade.

 

“I will. I’ll buy her flower. Go all out, even make an apology cake.”

 

“You’re not baking in our kitchen, it would be disastrous.”

 

You were subtle, and you wonder if he caught it. How you used the little “our kitchen” to try and patch one of the many cracks. You catch his shaky smile, uncertain but not afraid to show it.

 

“If you don’t want me to stay I wont. But I want to stay. I want to make it up to you and I will, I swear.”

 

“Shut up, Dave.”

 

You yank his hand to the floor, causing him to loos balance and slide forward, almost falling on you. You catch him with your free hand, pressing it against his heart, feeling the rapid thud under the skin. You kiss him harshly, open mouthed and fast with fire on the tip of your tongue and force behind each bite. He’s caught off guard and he tries to keep up but he can’t. You are devouring him.

You didn’t know how badly you wanted his closeness. You crave his intimacy so enormously you feel dangerous, and you don’t know where it came from but you want to feel over stimulated by Dave, you want to be touched and held and kissed and licked but him, and he’s so willing, just as wanting as you.

He’s already sliding his hands up your shirt, trying to get it out of the way as both yours and his hands grab the elastic band of your pajamas. When he starts to pull them down you release his hands, moving your own into his hair because he loves being touched there, loves when you run your fingers through his locks, loves when you yank at the strands and push him down.

Your dick isn’t even all the way out and he’s kissing right above it, hot pants of air leaving goose bumps on your skin and you’re _on the fucking kitchen floor and doing this and Jade is sleeping but you don’t fucking care._ He doesn’t even tease you, he licks a few times, kisses once, and takes you in one go, already sucking and you do try, you really swear you do try to be quiet but you get loud when he uses his mouth or when he touches you just right or-

 

“Fuck!”

 

He’s moaning around you because he knows, that fucker knows you cannot fucking resist it when he makes sounds because you being loud is normal, you never tried to stifle your voice but he is quiet and sinful with swollen lips and when he makes noise it is a gift you will always receive. His body always speaks to you though, you always know what makes him feel good, what makes him feel fantastic, what he likes, what he tolerates, what he wants, what he needs. He grips your hips hard, fingers digging in and shaking just a fraction and you are lost to his mouth and tongue and lips. He’s too good and you can’t spill enough words to let him know that.

 

“Ah-AH Dave, Dave, Da-ve ahh-

 

You scream into a fist as you come, and he swallows like he thinks he has to, or maybe he genuinely wants to, you don’t know.

You feel merciless though, and on fire through ecstasy and everything is fuzzy and too sharp all at once. You don’t give him time to pant on your dick or touch himself, instead you lean up even and push him back until he’s kneeling, shaking and his erection is trying to break though his jeans but you’ll get to that.

You shove two fingers in his open mouth.

 

“suck.”

 

He’s too gone to care about the foreplay where he pretends to defy you and you show him that in your hands he is desperate and needy, he just sucks, giving your fingers coating from his tongue probably still tasting like you.

You use your free hand to get his buttons undone and he cant get his pants all the way off, not with his kneeling, but its enough for you to get to what you want.

You give him teasing pumps, enough to get him groaning on your fingers, but then you move on, and take those fingers out of his mouth, just grazing his dick, and down to his entrance. You didn’t know he was holding you close until you feel his nail dig into your spine. You push in one finger and it’s incredible how easily he takes it. You don’t even wait before you add the second and he’s a mess of quiet sounds and soft whispers of your name.

You don’t need to add the third finger. You attack his sweet spot and he comes shaking and gasping, body rigid as he clutches you.

You didn’t plan on fucking him all the way, you couldn’t handle it. You both needed release and it was given, the softness of afterglow fogging your vision and making you feel light but the world so heavy.

You help his get all the way out of his jeans, and pull his boxers back up, fixing your own pants as well before falling into him, not caring that your still on the kitchen floor.

 

“John, I love you.”

 

He says it like if he spoke the words too loudly something would break, and you like it. You like how it feels like the most important secret in the world even though it’s obvious.

 

“I love you too.”

 

“Tell me I have to stay. Tell me I can’t leave.”

 

“Stay with me. Never leave.”

 

He pulls you against him harder, squeezing you to him as he wraps around you like a snake.

 

“I’m never gonna let go of you, John.”

 

You kiss into his neck and know from the sound of his breathing he’ll fall asleep soon. You feel warm and safe, but not tired.

You know he’ll never let you go. It’s the first time he’s said it out loud, but you knew for a while.

It breaks your heart for the hundredth time, because no one should let their love follow into death, but Dave will do just that.

He’ll love you even after you’re gone, and he’ll never let you go even when he should.

Its why you forgive him for hurting you so quickly. Because your pain will end. Dave’s wont. It will latch onto him and weigh him down as if he was the one with pounds of dirt on his body. You know he loves you. You’ve loved each other since middle school. You’ve shared your life, and even if you two weren’t together romantically, losing someone so close would hurt in the most violent way.

When his breathing is deep and calm you close your eyes and try to will away everything that exists outside of Dave. And then you whisper words into his skin that you hope travel through his ear into his brain and force themselves to be loud.

 

“Don’t love me for the rest of your life. Just love me for the rest of mine.”

 


	24. Chapter 24

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's POV

 

 

When you wake up its not with a clear mind from a restful sleep. You feel clouded and cold despite the heat coming from the body in your arms. The afterglow you had is gone, which could only be expected. You two were not gentle and slow like you usually were. Things were fast and harsh and real. You didn’t even really have sex, not like you normally do anyways, it’s just that the actions had a violence to them, every touch had radiated a frustration and a passion that shook you.

John hadn’t hurt you of course, he had been careful as always, just less hesitant.

You cant believe you did that on the kitchen floor with Jade sleeping in bed just in the other room. Actually you can completely believe it, but it was still insane.

It was just, everything about his touches, it had been so _intense._ You had liked it at the time of course, but now what’s left is this strange fear from the complete rawness you received emotionally.

He had burned the words I love you into your skin permanently, and it was terrifying.

You thought you knew sex and you knew love but you feel venerable and stupid now. There was a connection you didn’t know could be connected by the way you had spoken and listened and caught each word and touch and feeling.

You get the feeling that those desperate touches were acts of rejecting reservation and giving in. the acceptance of a looming death and a closing timeframe for moments of intimacy.

You kind of want to cry and laugh at such a release of emotions you weren’t aware of. You feel so close to John, so protective of him but still so small compared. Instinctively you hold him tighter, pull him closer, breathe him in deeper.

He mumbles into your chest, and a thin hand slides its way up your spine to your neck, and you shiver. The mumbling against your chest turns to a snicker, and you would throw a “fuck you” his way if your throat wasn’t tight. Damn him and his knowledge of your sensitive spots.

 

“Shower.”

 

He says the command like a sleepy child, but you follow it anyways. You’re not ready to fully wake up yet, but warmth is appealing, and you want to be with John physically right now. You feel incredibly clingy, and you just don’t care.

He gets up first, limbs too long for his incoordination, and though he tried to pull you up he just looses his balance and has to grab the counter. You get up on your own, smiling at his clumsiness and his “its early and I don’t give even a single shit” face. You end up taking his hand and pulling him down the hallway to the bathroom. He closes the door softly behind you both while you get the water going, almost slipping in the process.

He shucks off his pants and you throw your boxers in the corner, and just like that the air is warm and soothing and the entire world seems soft. As soon as you’re both under the spray his arms are around you, maybe to hold himself steady, maybe to hold you steady.

He doesn’t really move much, just sways a little and occasionally moves his head when you scrub his hair with shampoo. He’s not in the real world at the moment, and you don’t pull him back into it. You don’t know what he’s thinking about but you can tell by the way his eyes take a gray tint instead of sky blue that it isn’t something happy.

 

“John?”

 

He returns to you slowly, eye lashes thick from clotted water, hair falling in his face. He looks at you, but doesn’t focus on you.

 

“Are you happy?”

 

He does focus on you now. Eyes zooming in on yours, making you feel too centered. You get that it’s a heavy question, but you want to know. When Rose told you that John was depressed, you felt too in denial and self centered to consider it. If there were any time to be honest, it would be the present, while things still needed mending.

 

“What I mean is, like, I know things aren’t amazing or anything, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t moments, right?”

 

He looks at you with a questioning intensity that makes you nervous. You’re still holding each other, and no more than an inch away.

 

“I want to make you happy. I don’t know if I ever really make you happy, I know I cause a lot of shit, I just fucking want to make you happy. I want you to be as happy as you can be, and I want you to know that I will literally do anything to make that happen, ok?”

 

You shut up because you’re talking too fast and saying too much. He doesn’t say anything still, just looks at you. They he tucks his head into your neck and is hidden from your eyes.

 

“You do make me happy. Most of the time.”

 

His voice is so quiet, still a little hoarse from sleep. It tickles your neck and makes you feel sensitive all over.

 

“I want you to be happy all the time. I want to do that for you, if I can.”

 

“Being happy all the time would be stupid.”

 

“Why? What’s wrong with being happy all the time? Sounds pretty good to me.”

 

“I don’t want to be happy all the time dummy. If I were then it wouldn’t be special to be happy. I would just be some idiot always happy and wouldn’t appreciate it.”

 

You think on that. You guess he has a point there. But that doesn’t meant you’re convinced.

 

“Egbert, if anyone deserves to be some happy go lucky fucking idiot without a god damn care in this entire fucking universe, it would be you.”

 

“Dude, why would I want that?”

 

“So you can be happy all the time.”

 

“I told you, that’s dumb.”

 

“You’re dumb.”

 

“Why all the question? Since when is shower time about stupid questions?”

 

“I could suck your dick instead.”

 

“Dave.”

 

“I just want to make sure you’re happy.”

 

He’s silent again and you occupy your hands with the bar of soap, cleaning your arm so harshly its turned bright red from irritation.

 

“You don’t seem to get how much of an amazing person you are, and how much you deserve to be happy and have an amazing life. You put everyone else before yourself and I love that you’re selfless, I do, but forget everyone else. Forget the world and just do what makes you feel good. I’ll be behind you one hundred percent, no matter what.”

 

He pulls away a little and steals the soap bar from you.

 

“Don’t do the thing with the soap. You’re arms gonna itch all day.”

 

“Hey no don’t avoid-

 

“Don’t you remember what I told you a few weeks ago? After I told everyone about the cancer?”

 

You remember lots of things about those days.

 

“I told you that it was easier worrying about you guys than myself, because worrying about myself is tiring and depressing and useless. Worrying about you makes me feel less alone in this whole thing. Makes me feel like there’s other shit to focus on and I like it that way.”

 

You’re silent. You cant really argue with John, he asks for so little that what he does ask for you would get even if it meant climbing fucking Everest. He wants people to stop worrying about him but its impossible for all of you to just not do that.

 

“Let’s go out tonight. All four of us, somewhere casual. We can get pizza or some shit. It feels like forever since we’ve all chilled.”

 

He looks at you with those big eyes full of questions and curiosity and you see the beginning of a smile on his lips and feel it when he kisses you.

 

“That actually sounds really nice.”

 

You smile to yourself as he turns off the water. He still seems tired, and not as happy as he could be, but there’s less weight to his walk, a little less hunch in his back.

Maybe all he really does want is his friends around.

Maybe all John ever really cared about was the people he loved, and there’s nothing wrong with that, but you still wish he acted like he loved himself more.

You think he used to. You remember the way he would pretend to be a cocky bastard showing off muscle, or how straight he used to stand, head always up with the sun reflecting in his eyes.

There was no sudden shift between healthy John’s appearance and sick John’s appearance. It was a gradual decline, and once you watched with a great sense of uselessness. His sun kissed skin turned thin and greyish, creating a ghost in certain lighting. His appetite vanished, and his bones stick out too much now. When he smiles it doesn’t hide the hollowness of his cheeks. The bags under his eyes grow daily, and when you wake up he’s almost never still in bed. Sometimes you wake up when he fidgets late at night, sleeping lightly in an unhappy dream, or adjusting to uncomfortable breathing. If he does wake up at night, he wont go back to sleep. You’ve tried staying up with him, but you never make it. He’ll pretend to fall back asleep so you’ll go back to bed too, but you know he doesn’t sleep in the end.

You always hold him because you want to give him your energy and feed him your love, and you know it doesn’t work like that and nothing you do can help his body, but you will hold him day and night and hope that that could change.

 

“I’ll call Rose, will you wake up Jade?”

 

He brings you back to the current world and it takes you a moment to remember what he’s talking about.

It also takes you a moment to get what he’s hinting at: talk to Jade, fix things with her.

 

“Yeah, I’ll do that. But if she gives me a black eye for tryin to get he up I’ll be pissed. And I will bitch about it. Constantly.”

 

“Psh, whatever. Just put some pants on first!”

 

He’s already out the bathroom before you can retort. He dried off and put on clean boxers while you were wrapped up in your own thoughts. You dry off quickly and steal a pair of John’s clean boxers (he keeps a neat pile of them in the bathroom, you always forget yours).

 

A shirt and some jeans later you shuffle to the bedroom door, opening and closing it quickly and quietly behind you, leaving John to speak to Rose about evening plans.

 

You feel like your in a dark room alone, but you know Jade is curled up in a ball on one side of the bed. You can just make out the shade of it, the slight rise and fall from her breathing.

You approach her hesitantly, even though you know she’s completely passed out. She always is.

Jade has always been the team cheerleader, unwilling to give up on anyone. She’s the optimist with John, and the genius that could outmatch Rose’s wit. She is beautiful and kind and funny and you would die for her, just like you would die for any of your friends.

John’s cancer was taking your friends from you. It was taking John, and it felt like it was taking Jade too.

You’re an idiot if you think you can make it without Jade’s help after John leaves. You’re an idiot for thinking Jade could ever carelessly hurt John, and an asshole for blaming her when all she was trying to do was help.

You know you’re still an asshole because you’re still _angry._

She did this without telling you, hell you’re still angry at John for not telling you. But what she did was reckless and she should have-

You stop yourself from going in that direction. Anger isn’t what you want. You don’t need to be angry.

You sit down gently beside her, looking down at her barely visible face. The dark circles under her eyes have lessened, but still stand out like scars on skin that should not look so ashen. She looks like John looks. She looks sick. But in a different way. She looks worn down and pushed past a limit, fighting something much more mental than physical.

You want to see her smile again if that’s even possible.

 

“Hey, Harley. Time to rise and shine gorgeous.”

 

She nudges her head a bit, but other than that makes no move to awaken.

 

“Harley. Harhar. Hargirl. Harley. Jade. Jade Harley. Jadethan Harley.”

 

She mumbles and turns over. You’re getting there.

 

“All you’re craziest dreams will come true if you open your eyes. Like food. And animals. And plants. Crazy shit is goin on and you’re missing it.”

 

“fuck off.”

 

“The princess is awake, let us rejoice with sick beats.”

 

“What the fuck? What? Dave?”

 

She detangles the hair blocking her view of you as she sits up a bit. She looks up at you with confused, sad green eyes.

 

“Sup.”

 

“I…”

 

She looks away, grabbing her glasses and putting them on before glancing back at you. She looks like she’s going to cry.

 

“Harley, hey, no, no waterworks come on, it’s ok.”

 

“How can you say that? How can you even look at me? How the fuck are you even in the same room as me? I-I messed up oh god John-

 

“Jade, look at me.”

 

She does, face ready to split with tears but somehow held together. She looks at you with eyes that take on too much responsibility and suffer for it.

 

“Jade, you can’t change the past. I can’t change the past. We cant fucking time travel. What happened happened, and it sucks, but you didn’t give John cancer. You only tried to help.”

 

“You know what I did though. You shouldn’t be defending me, I know I fucked up and I deserve to be yelled at don’t-

 

You pull her into your arms and she freezes. You and Rose never grew up all that affectionate physically, or at all, so hugs were usually not something you initiated. You returned them, but actually hugging someone first was kinda a big thing for you. You know Jade gets that.

 

“I’m still upset, and I’m still hurt, but you are too and I ignored that. You needed our help and we didn’t give it to you. No I’m not done yet. Jade we love you, and I was supposed to be your friend but I didn’t act like it, and I’m sorry. Yeah you fucked up, but so did I and we just gotta get over that shit together.”

 

She holds you tighter and tighter as you go on, and when you stop she’s squeezing you hard enough to break your ribs and shoulder blades. She’s definitely crying.

 

“I thought you hated me. When you looked at me I saw it, I swear I thought you hated me and wished I was dead-

 

“No-

 

“And you know, I wish I could take his place. I wish it was me. I really wish it was m-

 

She folds into herself and black hair cascades like water to cover her face. She sobs and you remain quiet, and you wonder how horrible a person you really are for not disagreeing.

If it wasn’t John, if it was Rose or Jade, if they were dying…

 

“Jade, there isn’t one fucking day that goes by where I don’t wish I could take his place. And I know Rose feels the same way, and that’s because love is a stupid and dumb thing that sucks more than it rocks.”

 

“…love is illogical.”

 

“It’s a chemical in our brain, just fuckin’ us up.”

 

“But it’s more than that. Love doesn’t serve any logical purpose. It is illogical.”

 

“Gotta make babies.”

 

“It has its biological reasons, but its more than that. It is so fucking weird and dumb and painful Dave and I will never understand it.”

 

As she speaks her voice wobbles less, the tears fall slower. And she looks up at you with red rimmed emeralds and you want to cry for the turmoil you see in there.

 

“Why do we love the dead and the dying? What scientific function does that serve?”

 

Since you cant answer that you pull her closer and let her cling to your back.

 

“I don’t fuckin know. But I illogically love you anyways.”

 

“I’m so sorry Dave.”

 

“Quit sayin’ that shit and hug me.”

 

“…I illogically love you too, Dave.”

 

 

 

She only cries a little more before pulling away and wiping her eyes.

 

“so how’s pizza and movie night sound to ya?”

 

~

 

Pizza and a movie night is exactly what happens in the end. You don’t even leave the apartment after Rose shows up. You just straight up order way too much pizza and pick terrible movies from John’s Nic Cage phase. In all honesty he’s still in his Cage phase but the amount of teasing and tormenting him over it never made him waver, and you gotta admit, that takes commitment. He has a love/hate relationship with the movie Con Air, where he was obsessed with it for the longest time, then hated it with a passion to rival your hate for smuppets. He still owns the movie, and doesn’t really hate it or love it, its just kind of a thing from his childhood he hangs on to. You all end up watching it as an opening to the night, and the movie remains terrible as always, which you can tell Rose agrees with. Jade watches it with an entertained curiosity, and John reacts to certain parts with various degrees of annoyance, anger, happiness, and sadness.

At some point a form of fort is created, which is quickly destroyed and functions as a large mound of softness, which you all end up scattered on.

You all talk through the other five movies mostly. You talk with Jade a lot, John and Rose giggle at silly things. Rose talk to Jade, you talk to John. You talk to Rose with John’s head in your lap. He talks to Jade with her head on Rose’s stomach. Rose and you get into a discussion on who could wear who’s clothes the best. It ends with you in a soft black skirt, Rose in your old suit, and John and Jade just switching all their clothes. Jade works the cargo, John fits in the long skirt but cant get the shirt all the way on without stretching it.

You all look amazing and don’t even change back. You swear you see John checking out your legs in the skirt at least twice though. You file that away for later.

For some reason the last movie you watch before falling asleep is Ghost Busters. John falls asleep with a huge grin on his face, and you fall asleep watching him smile.

 

The damage wasn’t repaired fully, and it was not repaired cleanly, but it held together and for the moment didn’t fall apart so it was ok for now. He could hurt you and you could hurt him, again and again and again, but your love was stupid and crazy and illogical.


	25. Chapter 25

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Dave's POV   
> few weeks after movie night  
> I just finished chapter 30 and its the first time I've really cried writing this  
> i dont know how to respond to all the comments because everyone is so amazing and kind and awesome and I fucking cant thank you guys enough like holy shit

 

 

 

 

Exactly one month and two weeks after John’s original announcement, and three weeks after movie night lands you in a café with Rose. John’s at an appointment with his psychiatrist, and Jade is volunteering at one of the many animal shelters she spends her time at.

It’s a strange feeling of normalcy and calm, and its what Rose describes as acceptance.

It doesn’t stop the clock in your head from ticking so loud sometimes you miss what she’s saying though. The constant numbers drifting away, getting smaller.

 

_You have two months and two weeks left._

 

“If you’ve made so much music how come you haven’t tried publicizing it?”

 

_You pretend you don’t think about it every two seconds._

 

“Eh, I don’t know. Music is kinda like, its mine. Its not for anyone, its just this thing I do and that’s it. I make SJHB for the public, and they eat that shit up. When I was a DJ it was fun and all, but there was less connection with the music.”

 

_The normalcy will break at some point._

 

“Are you telling me Sweet Bro and Hella Jeff is your true calling, Dave?”

 

“Who the hell knows Lalonde. Maybe it’s been too high an art form for me to really see as a calling. Maybe I should be throwing it at museums.”

 

Rose laughs at you and you smirk. You have one of those overly complicated coffees that tastes good at first, but like shit by the third sip. Rose spent three bucks on goddamn tea, and you would bet her three bucks it was just to annoy you.

 

“It’s supposed to start snowing tomorrow. I hope you’ll remember that a sweatshirt does not count as appropriate winter clothing.”

 

“Fucking snow. Of all the places we live it’s the place where it fuckin snows like half the year. And not even like an inch, no we gotta have all these blizzards because Washington is too good for a little snow, its gotta have a shit load of snow. Jesus at least in New York it only snows a normal amount.”

 

“I rather like the snow. Jade’s always loved it, John’s grown up with it. Would you really prefer the heat of Texas over a little snow?”

 

“A little snow my ass. Remember the blizzards I was literally just talking about? Actual shitting blizzards. I could deal with the heat fine in Texas excuse you. I wore fucking long sleeves in summer.”

 

“Dave, you never left your apartment. You lived in a world of air condition and apple juice.”

 

“And I was the only one smart enough to do that. See this body? this is what natural selection looks like.”

 

“You’ve lost me.”

 

“If its hot, turn on the machine man made to make it cool. Its how humans are meant to survive these days. And you know what I’m gonna do when it starts snowing?”

 

“You cant spend the entire winter inside with the heat blasting.”

 

“And why the absolute fuck not?”

 

“Because-

 

The familiar sound of “who let the dogs out” fills the calm atmosphere of the café and you just barely contain your amusement. Rose doesn’t lock her phone, and you enjoy changing her settings way too much. She gives you an absolutely withering look before answering the call.

 

“Jade?”

 

You take another sip of your coffee, ignoring the taste. You pull out your own phone and shoot John a text.

 

_We need anything from store while im out?_

_-Dave_

 

“No, you’d have to get a different apartment. Your landlord doesn’t allow pets and your place is just too small.”

 

Of course Jade is calling to gush about some dog she needs to keep because they became best friends and the bond is already made and blah blah blah.

 

“If you cant have one dog why would you think you could get away with three? How does that logic work?”

 

You snicker as Rose starts to rub her head. She already looks done with the conversation. Your pocket buzzes.

 

_We might need milk, how much was left when you ate your cereal lunch? :B_

_-John_

He always makes fun of your for getting up late.

_If I wake up and eat food it still counts as breakfast but yeah ill get milk_

_-Dave_

 

“Why would anyone want a parrot? What is your reasoning behind wanting a giant bird that repeats random words to you?”

_hehe ok <3_

_-John_

_< 3_

_-Dave_

“You know you could always just get fish. Fish are very beautiful and are similar to plants in some aspects.”

 

“Tell her to buy a stuffed dog and add wheels to its feet so she can take it on walks.”

 

Rose gives you the finger without even looking your way.

 

“If you did get a dog would you really want to confine it to such a small place? It wouldn’t get out much and there aren’t many large parks for it to play in. would you really want that for your pet?”

 

“She could always just get a skeleton of a dog. That would be really cool actually.”

 

“Shut it Strider. Yes Dave’s here. No he’s not really in support of you getting a dog either. In fact he says you should get a fish.”

 

“Wow are you seriously using me like that? Really? That’s low.”

 

“Alright, I’ll talk to you later. Go continue giving copious amounts of love to all the animals. Bye Jade.”

 

She hangs up and sighs. Her exasperation comes with a small smile though. You’re both happy to see Jade working her way back to her energetic self. She’s been keeping herself busy in positive ways, and you’re proud of her for taking care of herself.

 

“What was it this time then?”

 

You ask because there’s always a story behind the animals Jade picks out.

 

“A husky with a missing tail and a taste for squirrel blood. Apparently his late owner was a hunter and he’s very skilled in tracking. Why she finds that so important is beyond me, but most of Jade Harley is beyond comprehension.”

 

“If she does get a dog do you think she’d let me have its skull when it dies?”

 

“I take it back. You are the one beyond comprehension.”

 

“Thank you, I try.”

 

“And yet, I don’t think you even have to. I should be going now, I actually have a meeting with my publisher in a bit. I have a sinking feeling she wants me to write another book.”

 

“You don’t wanna write anymore?”

 

“It’s not that, its, well its hard to explain. Give John a kiss for me, it’s been a pleasure as always Strider.”

 

She kisses your cheek and you make a face.

 

“Ew, I’ll have you know I’m very much spoken for. I get that you have an obsession with me but-

 

“I don’t see any ring on your finger. Yet.”

 

You impersonate a fish, opening and closing your mouth a few times while she gives you one of the smuggest looks possible. You can feel your cheeks heating up, fuck.

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“A wise woman once said, if you like it, shouldn’t you put a ring on it?”

 

“Oh my god stop.”

 

“I know you bought the rings Strider. I’m only providing support.”

 

“oh hey, how about you write your next book on the art of staying out of other peoples business and how not to be a snarky broad all the damn time.”

 

She collects her tea and bag, still smirking at you.

 

“I’ll keep that in mind.”

 

She leaves you to finish your shitty coffee with bright cheeks and a hot neck. Fucking hell. Of course Rose would get you about that. Never mind the fact that you know a total of jack shit about anything related to actual marriage or proposals or whatever. You don’t really know anything about anything normal in all honesty, but at least you knew that since middle school.

You’ve ben thinking about it almost nonstop though. You’ve gone out of your way to pass some of the jewelry stores on your way home or going to meet your friends. You never go in, but you see the rings on display. Most are large, brightly colored jewels, but you like the thin gold bands hidden in smaller displays.

You had to make Roes swear up and down to not tell Jade. You knew she wouldn’t tell John because she’s not a total ass but if Jade found out it would be over. She’d fucking buy you a white dress and throw petals at John all the while singing the tune of the wedding march. Hell you’d probably come home to a huge ass wedding cake.

You shake your head at the thought. You love Jade, but “secret” isn’t really a word she knows. Its actually part of what you love about her, because she’s too honest for her own good most of the time. She just isn’t a person who holds things in. She’s like John. Not like you or Rose.

You head over to the bus stop, glad its not rush hour so the bus wont be full. John should have finished his appointment by now, and since he had texted you back he must be either going home or home by now. You hope he had a good session. You don’t really know what he talks about, but that’s not your business. It’s why he has the therapist. You’re happy if he’s happy, because he needs to be doing what makes him happy.

You stop at the convenience store a block down from the apartment and grab some milk along with more of the shitty instant coffee John seems to like for some reason. He doesn’t seem to notice how much he’s ben drinking, and he drinks it like water. You cant blame him since he just doesn’t fucking sleep.

You think about his sleeping habits as you walk up the stairs to your floor. You wonder if there’s any medication he’s tried to help with it.

You turn the handle, its not locked. If one of you is home and the other isn’t you always leave it unlocked. You’re only ever waiting for the other person after all.

The lights are kept off or dim for you and you remove your shades instantly.

 

“Yo, got milk?”

 

You imagine John rolling his eyes at you. There’s a noise by the refrigerator. John’s probably messing around.

 

“I picked up some of your gross bean juice-

 

You stop and then move, faster than flash stepping because you’re beside him before the milk and coffee even hit the ground. He’s leaned up on the fridge, hand holding his chest with white knuckles as he looks at you with wide, confused, scared eyes.

 

“John, what’s wrong? Can you talk? Tell me what’s wrong.”

 

“…Cant-

 

He breaks off into a small spasm of hands fluttering from his neck to his chest. He’s not coughing or choking, because _he’s not inhaling_.

 

You’ve had the closest hospital ER on speed dial for a month now, and it only rings less than a second before someone answers. You don’t hear anything they try to say, you’re already ahead of them.

 

“I need an ambulance. _Now._ ”

 

His eyes flutter closed.


	26. Chapter 26

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> betcha weren't expectin THAT  
> or maybe you were but it still happened 
> 
> Dave's POV

 

 

 

 

You stay on the phone with a nurse who walks you through the steps of CPR and you breathe air into John’s body, but you don’t know if its working and you have never been more scared in your entire life.

Not when Bro was missing, not when you saw his body, not when you got into your first big fight, not when Rose’s mom died, not when John’s dad died. You are scared right now and the moment is more terrible and terrifying than any single event you have ever lived.

The paramedics burst into the room with bags and a stretcher, and they all but throw you out of the way, and you just, sit where you land, watching.

One sets him up with oxygen, the other starts cutting his shirt away, and the first thing that pops in your head was _John really liked that shirt._

You guess this is what shock is like. Not really understanding what’s going on and being too out of it to process the events before you or what happened before. What’s going on, what’s happening?

 

“Is he breathing? Is he gonna be ok?”

 

You think maybe you’re too quiet or they’re too focused, but the one with the oxygen looks over at you.

 

“There’s either fluid in his lungs or they’ve collapsed. There could be a blockage but we have no way of knowing until we get him to the hospital. We need your full cooperation here to not interfere and let us help your friend.”

 

“…boyfriend.”

 

It’s a damn weak response, but you’re watching as one of the guys listens with a stethoscope to John’s chest for what seems too little time to know what’s wrong.

 

“It’s collapsed.”

 

The other one moves with a sped up precision and calmness that for some reason makes you angry. He’s handing the other guy stuff you don’t know what the fuck is and it looks like they’re just going to stick them in John and fuck you don’t want that but you want him to breathe oh god fuck you want to see his eyes.

 

“Does he have any family that’s needs contacting?”

 

“What, no. Yes, I-shit not like biological family, fuck.”

 

“We need to take him to the hospital and preform surgery. There’s no family for the hospital to contact?”

 

“I’m his family! We live together-

 

“Are you his husband?”

 

“I, no not-

 

“If there’s no blood relation or marital status we cant let you accompany him in the ambulance, I’m sorry.”

 

Are they fucking serious.

Is this really happening, is this honest to god fucking happening _this can’t be happening._

 

“Oxygen is getting through to the second lung.”

 

“What does that mean? Fucking shit is he gonna be ok?! John! John can you hear me?!”

 

“Sir, please remain calm, we need to get your companion to the hospital. He’ll be fine as long as we can get him there. He’s-

 

“-ave”

 

“JOHN!”

 

His hand twitches and you know whatever they’re doing is saving John’s life and they’re loading him onto the stretcher but nothing in any world or universe could stop you from grabbing his hand and letting him know that _you are right there and you will stay with him_.

 

“Sir, please step back-

 

“The fuck I am, I’m going with him to the hospital right now.”

 

They move out the door with John, and continue down the stairs, all the while telling you to stay back, take your own car to the hospital, wait for him in the lobby. You stop listening and hold on to John’s hand while you move. He struggles to keep his eyes open, but he holds your hand back.

 

“You can’t get in the ambulance, you have to step back!”

 

There’s there moment where they load him into the vehicle, and your hands are slipping. Pulled in opposite directions as he’s pulled away from you and you’re being pulled away from him. His eyes open fully and he looks at you with panic and fear and the words _don’t leave me_ are etched into his eyes.

 

“Dave!”

 

His voice sounds strangled from the oxygen mask and it might be louder, or maybe he can’t raise his volume. But he calls to you, and fuck it if you aren’t going to answer his calls.

You will stay with John Egbert no matter what. You will go to him even if he doesn’t ask, but if he does ask you will sprint to him. If he asks you will jump off a cliff and still return to him somehow. So when he calls out your name you do what you have always had a knack for doing in overwhelming and impossible times.

You breathe in, and slow time. You think, and you act. You move with speed you only ever saw one other person possess and as time speeds back up with the decision you chose, you breathe out, expelling the words from your lips and nearly shouting.

 

“ _John Egbert will you marry me_!”

 

There’s a falter in one of the paramedics steps, and they both turn to look at you with surprised faces, but to their credit they continue working on John. You just stand there, fingertips still in contact with John himself, and he look at you with eyes no longer panicked and scared.

He looks shocked.

 

“We have to go, we can’t wait any longer, I’m sorry.”

 

“If he says yes, I can go with you right? I’ll be his fucking fiancé isn’t that enough?”

 

There’s silence and you’re still looking at John. The paramedics still and are silent too, and you understand that they’re waiting, just like you’re waiting, for the answer.

 

“John, I know this is literally the worst time to possibly ask and I would never do this in any other situation but for fucks sake dude please answer the damn-

 

“Y-yeah. Yes.”

 

“Yes?”

 

“Yes! Get in the fucking car I can’t breathe!”

 

He looks like he’s been hit by lighting and still doesn’t know what happened, but there’s a beginning of a smile on his face and you can’t help it. You smile too.

 

“You heard the man, get in.”

 

“Congratulation, and please buckle up.”

 

You jump in, you hand gripping John’s completely. There are things happening and words being said but you’re looking at John and he’s just smiling at you with this look of so much _joy_ and it’s the exact look you fell in love with in high school. It’s a joy you feel and its not only a reminder of how much you love him but proof that he has to love you at least a little bit back. Because John Egbert said yes.

You asked him to marry you, and he said yes.

 

“You said yes.”

 

You didn’t know you were grinning so much. Words sound funny in your mouth.

 

“I said yes.”

 

His voice is still muffled by the little mask.

 

“Egbert, you better be ok because we officially got a wedding to do.”

 

He snorts and closes his eyes for a second, concentrating on breathing as much as he can. You squeeze his hand.

 

“Dave, I love you.”

 

“I love you too. Hang in there, ok?”

 

You never thought you could be so happy and so scared for such different reasons at the exact same time.

 

“I don’t have a ring on me but I’ll get one soon as we go back home, ok? I’ll redo the whole proposal like I wanted, get down on one knee and all that shit, promise.”

 

“You’re…such a dork.”

 

He inhales shakily, holding the mask to his face tighter, trying to get the air all the way in where it has nowhere to easily go.

 

“Just hang in there dude, you’ll go in and they’ll fix you right up, no sweat.”

 

“Don’t leave…”

 

“I’m not going anywhere Egbert. I got you. I love you.”

 

He sighs like a contented person does but the sound he makes is made up of constricted air and uncomfortable inhaling.

 

He doesn’t stay conscious after that. You call his name and he wakes up, but he falls again and again with the lack of oxygen he needs.

You don’t let go of his hand until they push his bed through the doors of the surgical room and they force you to stay behind. There’s no way for you to see or hear anything and you wait in a badly lit hallway, ugly florescent lights flickering and painted walls chipping.

They didn’t even give you a time frame, and there’s no one to ask.

You are obligated to do it, and they need to know, but a part of you feels the desire to let Jade and Rose stay in the dark. But you can’t do that to them, because you had all been clear that secrets aren’t a thing that’s allowed anymore and to keep the truth hidden is only painful in the end.

You call Rose first, because you will always go to her in your time of need. You tell her his lung collapsed but you don’t know what that means. You tell her everyone says he’ll be fine. You tell her the name of the hospital. She says she’ll be there soon. She’ll go to Jade’s and explain what happened, have Jade drive them.

She says it’ll be ok, they’ll be there soon.

You don’t feel like the worst will happen though. You worry that something bad has happened and that John is suffering, but you don’t fear for his life in this moment. John’s been fighting this with nothing but a bad cough up until now. He’s strong. He can handle this.

You are still afraid. You are still anxious and scared because someone is probably cutting open John’s flesh and doing things to him that he shouldn’t need done if he was healthy. He’s unconscious and probably breathing through a tube. He’s alone in there.

 

“Dave.”

 

There are 4 arms around you suddenly and the smell of cut grass and soft lavender. Black hair blocking your vision and soft, finer hair brushing your cheek. Hands that are smooth and slim and hands that are rough and large. The feeling of loneliness washed off your heart like light dust under spring showers. Your family is here, so it should be ok.

No one cries, but no ones speaks. You all just have to wait, and time will do as time does and pass. You break the silence awkwardly, because at this point you cannot do anything smoothly.

 

“John and I are engaged. Like, for marriage engaged.”

 

Wide electric green stares at you before her smile crinkles that green.

 

“It’s about time!”

 

A laugh wobbles and bubbles in your throat, but only turns into a scratched chuckle.

 

“I’m very pleased to hear that, Strider.”

 

She kisses your cheek and you don’t need to look to know she’s making that face, the one of a person who really is happy for you but they have so much sadness under all the happiness and some of it leaks through.

You burry yourself in their love and hide your face in their hair because the timing isn’t great and the world isn’t kind but your little, tormented, beautiful family hold strong.


	27. Chapter 27

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> forgive me for the speed which these events are escalating in

 

 

“I don’t think I can make a cake like that. Like, I’ve made a lot of cakes, but never a 6 story cake with all that swirly stuff.”

 

“What if we both skateboard down the isle.”

 

“Wait, are we both going down the isle or is one waiting for the other or how does that work?”

 

“Whoever wears the dress walks down the isle.”

 

“Are you volunteering Dave?”

 

“We can both just skateboard down together, like the priest is all ‘yo here come the grooms’ and we’ll just roll in-

 

“Do we have matching corsages or different ones? What about waist coats? Wait, do we need a flower girl?”

 

“Well now there’s a problem because Rose is named after a flower but Jade grows flowers, so it’s like, who do we pick?”

 

“Was that a flower pun? Wait does it have to be girl? Fuck do we actually need a flower girl like is there a law somewhere? Holy shit Dave I’ve never been to a wedding before what do people _do_?”

 

Dave snorted. He couldn’t help it, John looked so genuinely distressed as he flipped through a magazine filled with white dresses and top ten cutest invitation ideas.

He also had two tubes that connected right under his nose feeding him oxygen, and another tube on his arm connected with an IV. The sound of his heartbeat on the monitor was like elevator music.

You’ve been at the hospital for 9 hours. John woke up about an hour and a half ago. He got out of surgery 3 hours ago, and you weren’t allowed to see him. Jade and Rose nap on each other, their minds and bodies drained with the tremendous relief John’s awakening brought, and the initial anxiety still wearing off from their arrival.

You watched the sun set from a little window while John was in surgery. You lie to yourself and say that you knew he would be fine, but you never knew. You will never fucking know and you were terrified every second.

When his eyes opened you felt like you were taking your first breath. If anyone ever said looking into the eyes of the person you love is only special for a certain time, then that person is a fucking liar. You’ve looked into John’s eyes for more than half your life, and everyday they only become more magnificent. They draw you in and you gladly drown in the blue of his irises. You let yourself be captured by his gaze every single time and you will continue to be captured every time they focus on you. There is nothing about his eyes that fade because nothing between you fades. You both only strengthen and grow together. You find yourself only every loving John more by day.

He woke up to you and he smiled. He felt the restrain of the tubes and he frowned. But he returned to you, and with his eyes he drew you forth, and you crawled onto the bed and curled around his frame. You kissed each of his fingers, and then you kissed his wrist. You kissed his elbow, you kissed his shoulder, you peppered kissed up his neck and across his cheek, and you kissed the tip of his nose. You kissed his forehead soft but long, lips burning into skin over skull, and then you kissed his eyelids. You felt them flutter under your quick contact, and they didn’t open when you reached his lips.

He sighed out your name when you broke that fragile contact, and his head kept your head from moving away. He kept your foreheads touching, and he forced you to look back at him, straight into his eyes. You were stripped bare by his sight, and he saw through everything you were. You were never more than paper thin in his presence and that didn’t change. John Egbert could see though you when you were nothing more than red text on a computer screen, and when you met in person he didn’t just read you like a book, he tore the pages from your binding and brutally uncovered the person you were in complete honesty. You feel him rip you open every damn time he looks at you like that, and you know that wont change. You drown in his eyes. He destroys you with those eyes. He breaks you and leaves you scattered. And all that’s left of you when you finally look back is a person you don’t even know, but its ok because he knows them as you and he loves you anyways. For all your flaws presented so clearly, he accepts you.

 

“Dave?”

 

You hum in response. You’re tired, and John is comfortable.

 

“Do we keep our names? Or do we combine our names or something? What if we both make our names Stribert?”

 

“Oh my god no, no, holy shit.”

 

“Egder.”

 

“Stop right now.”

 

“Streg.”

 

“I take it back. I take back my proposal.”

 

“Too late Mr. Egstri.”

 

“Jesus dicks we can just keep our names and like, add each other’s names in the middle. John Strider Egbert and Dave Egbert Strider. Fucks sake.”

 

“What about Stristri and Egeg-

 

“I will leave right now I swear to god.”

 

He bursts into airy laughter. His cheeks tint red and his eyes even water a little. You stop and just look at him. You haven’t seen him laugh so much in a while, and it would be perfect if you weren’t in a hospital. He isn’t wearing his glasses, and his hair is extra tousled, and you know you love him more than its healthy because to you he is so beautiful and he shouldn’t be. He does look sick, you can see it in the bones that stick out and thinness of his skin, the bruises that form on their own and the circles under his eyes. They’re all a part of him now, and they are bad things, but John is still here and when you look at him you cant block out the wrongness of his body failing, its too obvious, but you will always see the same boy you fell in love with. You see his hands that still touch gently and you hear his voice that is always sweet. He is John, and so he is simply beautiful to you.

His finger (too thin, too pale) smooth over your cheekbones and he look at you with a smile on his face and a fondness in his eyes that makes your heart ache.

 

“You should get some sleep, Dave Egbert Strider.”

 

It sounds nice. A little bit of him staying with you.

 

“You should be sleeping too, John Strider Egbert.”

 

“I’ve been asleep for too long. Go to bed and I’ll stay up in case the girls wake up.”

 

“Only if you promise to wake me up if you need me.”

 

“I promise. I’ll be right here. Now go to sleep.”

 

“You’re not my real mom.”

 

“Go to sleep dick for brains.”

 

You smile lazily at him and he sticks his tongue out at you. You’re already lying down, and you don’t have the energy to argue. You want to sleep, and it feels safe to sleep. You can tell yourself it will be ok and when you wake up it he’ll still be there and be fine, and you believe it.

 

“Love you.”

 

He says it like he says it every night, whispering it into your skin and letting it seep into your bones. Those words are drugs that you need and he gives them to you just like you give them to him.

 

“Love you too.”

 

You can’t help but close your eyes. You are heavy, the bed is warm, the moment feels safe. You can’t fall asleep right away though, your head is too full and loud. The panic you felt hasn’t gone completely, and the euphoria of John being your fiancé is fresh and profound.

 

The peace is broken by the sound of your phone ringing. It’s a rare thing, since no one calls you but your friends or old bosses looking to hire again. You grunt as you reach into your pocket and open your eyes. John watches you curiously, equally perplexed by the mystery caller.

 

“Yeah?”

 

You don’t quite feel up for pleasantries.

 

“Dave Strider?”

 

There’s a professionalism to that voice that you don’t like. It is impersonal, and threatening.

 

“Speaking. Who’s this?”

 

“This is Houston Police Department. We’re calling concerning the murder of Dirk Strider and the details of his death.”

 

It’s like the first call all over again. They called your shitty cell phone and told you with a voice full of false sympathy that something terrible had happened. Life wasn’t fair then, it wasn’t fair before, and it wasn’t fair now. But that sure as hell didn’t mean that you had thought all this was in the past.

You buried your bro. You said your peace. You fucking got over it.

 

“The details are that he died 8 years ago. Why are you calling me now?”

 

John stiffens at your side. You’re worried you’ll break your phone your holding it so tight.

 

“We believe we’ve identified the murderer. We’ve recently received evidence-

 

“So you don’t know for sure. Do you have the guy in prison?”

 

“…no, we’re unable to convict without further proof-

 

“You call me to tell me you _think_ you found the bastard that killed my brother but you aint even got him locked up? What, is he just fuckin’ around town, killin’ other people while you fuckin’ _speculate_?”

 

“Mr. Strider, if we want to convict Noir then we need your testimony.”

 

You didn’t realize you were standing, or that John was pulling at your shirt. You didn’t know you had woken up the girls.

 

“That’s his name? Noir?”

 

“Yes, Jack Noir. And if you could come down to Houston court for a few days so your testimony could be heard then we would get a good chance at sending him to prison.”

 

Jack Noir. It’s just a name to you. It might not be the same killer, or it might be. You don’t know what he looks like or what he sounds like or what kind of man he is. He’s not part of your life. You don’t want him to be part of it.

 

“Now’s not the best time to be away.”

 

“If you come this week then all the witness and testimony recording can be dealt with within the month. Otherwise we might not be able to deal with this case for another couple months at all.”

 

“You have a real nice system down there, ya know that? Catching murderers 8 years late, not getting them in prison, its just fantastic.”

 

“Sir, look. We need your testimony, and we need it this week. Will you please come to Texas to do that?”

 

You close your eyes. You are frustrated. You’re feeling a shit load of other emotions but you can’t pinpoint what they are. Bro’s death is coming right back at you and you are blown away with the absolutely perfect fucking timing of it all. You can’t do this right now.

 

“I’ll need to get back to you on that.”

 

“But if you could ju-

 

You end the call and drop your phone on the white tiles, watching it make contact and bounce before stilling. You just kind of stare at it.

 

“Dave, what happened?”

 

Rose’s voice. You don’t want to look up.

 

“The police think they found the guy that killed bro. They want me to come down this week for a testimony.”

 

You mumble it out and you feel like your falling. You’re so angry, so fucking angry and upset.

The yanking on your shirt becomes harsher and you want to bite whoever’s doing it, but instead you just let it lead you. You stumble back and large arms catch you, holding you, steadying you.

You had gotten over it. You swear to fuck you had gotten _over it_. You had shed your tears, you fucking _left_ Texas. You were angry that no one knew who killed him but that’s life and you were more caught up in his death rather than his murderer. You guess you were just stupid for thinking you could get away from this.

But death was supposed to be final.

Wasn’t that the point of a funeral?

 

“What the fuck am I supposed to do?”

 

There’s a warm face next to yours, a chin on your shoulder and the almost brush of his cheek against yours.

 

“You do what you want to do. When have you even done anything else?”

 

You could cry. You love this man so much, you’re in danger of creating a religion for him.

 

“If you go down to Texas and this man is put in prison, don’t you think you’d be doing the world a great favor? He’s murdered an innocent person.”

 

Rose’s voice is in her “justice must be served” tone, and you can tell she feels strongly towards this. At the time of Bro’s death, you had been most upset by loosing him, but she had been far more upset over the escape of the murderer. Her anger had only been contained by her concern for you, but it never truly left. It could never be said that Rose Lalonde was not a good friend, because when it came down to it, she would murder for you.

 

“But what if he’s not really the murderer? And how would Dave even know? Why do they need him, its not like he’s a witness.”

 

Jade, always the optimist with excessive compassion. If Rose played the devils advocate, Jade was the perfect angel on your shoulder. Sometimes you worried she was too good for her own good. Other times you worried about the people who wronged her because of her limitless firearms and skills in using them.

 

“Even if he didn’t murder Dave’s brother, he’s a suspect for a reason. He’s probably killed someone else, committed other crimes, hurt other people.”

 

You get the feeling Rose and Jade are about to get into something bigger than the situation at hand.

 

“The justice system here puts people behind bars for doing shit! With no absolute evidence, how is it possible to know if he did or didn’t murder anyone? It’s messed up!”

 

Yeah there you go.

 

“I think we should all go and get this out of the way. Dave can get some sort of closure maybe, and we can see some of the places he grew up. We can make it into a vacation thing!”

 

John’s voice comes a bit loud right next to your ear, but its beautiful. You wouldn’t say it out loud, but you were hoping he would make the decision for you. You were terrified you would have to go to Texas alone, and didn’t feel very settled about dropping the idea completely. He was right in the sense that you wanted closure, even if you didn’t know if this would help.

But you hadn’t been to Texas in 8 years. It had been your home, a place where most of your memories were formed. You didn’t quite miss it, but you did feel nostalgic. There was a southern heat in your skin that missed the sun baking your flesh and tangerine sun cooking the ground under your feet. There had been days you had felt like you were melting in the air, and it had been fucking awful at the time, but looking back it seemed like an experience you’re glad to have remembered.

And Bro was buried there. You can’t lie and say you hadn’t thought about visiting him. Even if you just went to look at a piece of stone with his name on it, you feel like you owed him that.

You missed him. The pain hadn’t really even gone away, but it did lessen an enormous amount. Nonetheless, the pain was still there, even if it was a dull ache compared to the wound first inflicted.

That’s what love gets you though. A shit load of pain to go with happy memories.

 

“Yeah. Yeah I think that doesn’t sound too bad.”


	28. Chapter 28

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ret·ri·bu·tion  
> ˌretrəˈbyo͞oSH(ə)n/  
> noun  
> punishment inflicted on someone as vengeance for a wrong or criminal act.

 

 

 

You book your flights. You book hotel rooms. You call the police department again. You pack.

John has an oxygen tank now. He doesn’t use it all the time, just at night. Sometimes he’ll use it mid-day or after a bad coughing spell, but its not an intrusion on your life.

When you kiss his lips and feel the bump of the tubes you are reminded, but most of the time they’re not there and its just bliss in contact. You give him your air and he breathes out your name and the world is perfect for moments at a time.

You talk to Rose about planning the wedding, she seems happy to have something to do. John and Jade gush over stupid things, like if they should put a stripper in the cake or ride horses into the church. You leave most of the planning to Rose.

You only had three days before your depart for Texas, and John still had to spend the night at the hospital for one of those. When you brought him home, oxygen tank in tow, he slept for the longest time you’ve ever seen him after the diagnosis. He curled around you and slept heavily while you held his hand, limp but warm.

You packed bags, you had sex on the drawers, you took a shower, had sex in the shower, called the girls, considered elevator sex, and got in a cab, feeling incredibly sated and quite relaxed. You held hands and gave each other lovesick looks the entire way to the airport. It was nice.

Rose and Jade met you after security, and you boarded the plane.

You fell asleep moments after sitting down, the pressure of a kiss against your skull giving you a grin while drifting off.

When you woke up the seat belt sign was beeping and your love was looking out the window at clouds that formed the edge of a world and hid the ground so many miles below. You fell back asleep while watching his eyes flicker down and up outside and far away. The second time you woke up his hand was in yours and he was looking at you, all smiles and tired eyes while other people got up and began leaving the plane.

 

The air outside that hits you is warm. Not the fake warm of Washington when you still had to wear a sweater, but the real, inviting and enriching warm. Sun kissed your cheeks over and over and filled you up to the hair on your head. You got a taxi quickly because the memories were both happy and sad and you didn’t want to decide which one they were more.

When you all get to the hotel you part silently, desperate for sleep to recover from the travel. The room is nice, not shitty at least. You paid for nice, you got nice. John doesn’t pretend to try and sleep much anymore. He props up some pillows and turns on the tv, volume so low you doubt he can hear anything. When he finds a channel he pats the place next to him and you go to him, obedient as ever and so very willing.

The clock reads 4:47 pm.

 

“I wish you would sleep with me.”

 

He only smiles at you. Always smiles, always gentle.

 

“I’ll fall asleep when I’m tired.”

 

He only lies to you. Always soothing, always sad.

 

He kisses your forehead and you don’t smile when you fall asleep.

 

~~~ 

 

Dave falls asleep by your side just like he always does. You’ve begun to notice how everyone have a certain way they fall asleep. Jade likes to toss and turn until she’s sprawled out in a comfortable way. Rose will curl into herself and make a cocoon in blankets, like she’s always too cold and there’s never enough covering. Dave falls asleep hard. He falls into it within seconds and is so deep inside himself within minutes that waking him takes effort.

You’re interested in seeing Dave’s old home, you are, but you wish seeing his old home was the only reason you were here.  

You are scared for Dave.

You saw the look on his face when he was on the phone. It was a look you had wanted to take away from him because he didn’t need it. It was fury and aggression waiting to explode and consume and it did not look good on the one you loved.

You had never met Dave’s Bro, but you will always hold it against him for giving Dave the idea that the world was a battlefield. You’re not angry Bro trained Dave to know how to fight, but you wished he hadn’t given Dave a reason to fight. Protection was understandable, but Bro had made Dave face the world as an enemy and look down and see only the worst of it all. Dave was by no means a soldier, he lacked every possible amount of discipline that ever existed and he didn’t listen to anyone in all honestly. This was why Dave could be so dangerous when he wanted to be. He was wild and unstable with so much power, and he had nowhere to direct it. Bro prepared him to fight armies on his own but no armies showed up. Dave won’t talk about it but he’s struggled for years with the paranoia instilled in him. You cant sneak up on him because he’s always trying so desperately to be aware and if you do sneak up on him the world could break just a little bit and he would need to recover, regroup, reorganize. He only ever got into a few bad fights in high school, never one bad enough for serious trouble, but he created an image of fear around himself and wore it like his favorite shirt.

You took apart that façade of fear in tiny layers and made him face you without his armor. You remember when that trust was really established between you two because it was also when you fell in love.

Selfishly, you wish the police had never called. You wish none of this business had come up, wished it could have waited until after. You were far past the gentle and light part of your relationship and much more in a bittersweet and struggling part. Dave’s proposal had made you so, so happy, it had, but picturing yourself at an altar with an oxygen tank was not what you wanted.

But what you wanted didn’t really matter at this point, since you got what life gave you and life gave you cancer. At the very least though, you still got Dave. You still had your best friends, your family.

And now apparently a murder case. A few days after going to the fucking hospital. Fuck.

If you believed in god you would pray for Dave to get through everything alright, but you don’t believe in god so you don’t pray. You lie next to your best friend and your fiancé and hope with everything in your heart that nothing else hurts the boy you love.

 

 ~~~

 

You don’t fall asleep like John thinks you do. At least not completely. You doze, always on the verge of actual slumber, and wait for his breathing to grow and steady as it can. He falls asleep sometimes, very lightly, but still asleep. You suspect it’s the only sleep keeping him going, and it doesn’t lift the bags from under his eyes. He fell asleep stroking your hair and you almost fell asleep when he was, but you had to stay awake. You have shit to do.

You pull your phone from your pocket without rustling and check the time. It was only 4pm, and you didn’t have an appointment until around 5.

You get up anyway. You should be there early. John won’t wake up, he crashes and sleeps for a good two hours when he stays up like he does. You have to be careful not to jostle him, but you’ve always held him like thin glass and now is no different.

You know you lied, and you know you’re lying right now in actions, but you say you’re doing it because its easier this way.

You kiss him light as paper and he doesn’t stir. You go out the door fast enough that you don’t have time to look back and regret going forward.

Time was always more on your side than not. It had a habit of playing out for your favor, and now wasn’t any different. You had arrived from your flight in the city roughly an hour before an appointment with the police department. You had scheduled the appointment at this time and planned on going on your own. You even remembered the way to the police department by foot.

Your friends had come with you for support, but in truth this was something you felt like you needed to settle on your own. This was your only relative damnit, you needed to stop being a pussy about it. You needed to do what Bro would do, which if fucking deal with the problem head on, and confront the motherfucker who might have murdered a person you love.

Which is why you’re walking alone to the police department to stare at the face of a possible murderer. He’s not in prison since legally no one can convict him yet, but he is being detained as a suspect. This means you’ll be talking with him.

You weren’t going to leave Texas until you had this over and done with, and that didn’t mean condemning the POSSIBLE murderer of your bro, it meant getting the real deal in fucking prison or dead. The only way you were gonna figure out who did it was by getting your hands dirty and in their face.

You walk the steps up to the building. You go in and you fill out some papers. You go through some doors, go through security, you speak to guards.

And then you’re placed in front of a man with pitch black eyes that look like they want to jump from the mans face and slice your throat. He is, in all appearances, the stereotypical criminal. He’s got greasy dark hair slicked back with scars littering his face, and a fucking eye patch. He smells like cigarettes and cheap aftershave and you already dislike him.

 

“Who the fuck are ya?”

 

His voice is raspy and loud, like an old dog that wont shut up.

 

“I’m just some dude tryin to figure out if you killed my bro or not.”

 

Honesty is the best policy.

 

“Fuck off kid.”

 

“Don’t feel like it.”

 

“I aint gotta talk to you.”

 

“He was around 6ft tall, light blond hair, wore a baseball hat and a white shirt. Had pointy sunglasses on.”

 

“I don’t have to deal with this I got a lawyer.”

 

“How’d you kill him? Gun? Knife? Fucking baseball bat?”

 

You know he died from knife wounds. A shit load of knife wounds and one stab to the heart.

 

“I don’t give a shit who your dead brother was or how he died. He was probably some stupid fuck that got killed for looking as ugly as fuck as you.”

 

“You have some pretty scars on your face. You get into a lot of fights?”

 

“Fuck off.”

 

“Well if you insist.”

 

You get up fast enough that the guard flinches.

 

“I’ll be seein you, Jack.”

 

You are escorted out, and from there you go back through doors and out the entrance. You walk the 47 minutes back to the hotel without even a hint of emotion. You pass by people and they move out of your way, giving you a hesitant second glance.

You get a soda from the lobby and go up the elevator. You walk past the girl’s room, and open yours.

 

“Dave?”

 

“Hey, sorry, wanted to get a soda. Didn’t want to wake you.”

 

“I woke up a while ago, I tried your phone but you di-

 

“Shit, sorry I spaced out down there. Lot of stuff to think about. Sorry.”

 

“…Its ok, just glad you’re alright.”

 

He doesn’t need to know. He doesn’t. No one needs to know.

You know he’s worried and you’re acting weird, but you play it off that you’re just nervous, worried about going to court and talking in front of a bunch of old police dudes.

He tells you he loves you and you believe him because the way he holds you makes you feel like nothing can touch you and time can stop. You hope he can hear all the devotion in your voice when you tell him you love him too.

 

You crawl back to bed, for a deep sleep this time, and you hold him close, face curved by your neck, breath ghosting your collarbone. This way he can’t see your face and the way you stare up at the ceiling with wild eyes.

The man Jack Noir killed your brother, of this you have absolutely no doubt after speaking with him. therefor, You will not leave Texas until he’s dead.

 

 


	29. Chapter 29

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> per·ju·ry  
> ˈpərj(ə)rē/  
> noun:  
> the offense of willfully telling an untruth in a court after having taken an oath or affirmation.

 

 

 

 

_“Place your hand on the bible.”_

_It’s an act of lying in itself to you. The bible is meaningless to someone like you, and lying under the pretenses that god will punish you if you are not honest is shit in your eyes. You say the words the people around you want to hear and you go up and sit in a hard wooden chair. You are under oath of god, but you don’t owe god shit._

_It’s a lot of listening. It’s a lot of yes and no questions that seem stupid, seem pointless. Lawyers like to hear themselves talk. They like to throw evidence in your face. They think they can intimidate you, think they can make you think they can read your mind. They cant._

_“We ask that you describe your brother, Mr. Strider.”_

_He was weird. He was silent most of the time and spoke when it mattered. He taught you the worst of life and the best in a lot of ways. He was strong. He was a fucking genius. You thought he was cool. You loved him._

_You only tell them he was smart and could handle himself._

_“So could he handle himself against a common mugger?”_

_Fuck yeah he could you say._

_“So only a skilled attacker would be able to win against your brother.”_

_They don’t need your answer. That’s why they didn’t even ask like a question. You just nod._

_“Jack Noir is notorious for his capabilities within his gang. An expert fighter, I believe. Able to take down opponents twice his weight. He’s also known for his insanity.”_

_You don’t care._

_“It is with overwhelming evidence at this point that we ask for your final observation, Mr. Strider, to send Jack Noir to jail on murder charges along with theft, arson, attempted murder, illegal weapon ownership, gang related activity, and more to be determined.”_

_You wait._

_“Will you please state, for the testimony and under oath, if you believe Jack Noir is the murderer of your brother?”_

_A heavy silence._

_An intake of air._

_An answer._

_He aint the man._

_“I-what?”_

_He didn’t kill anyone far as I know._

_“The evidence-_

_Is bullshit to me._

_“Mr. Strider-_

_Is done here. I will not be answering any further questions, and would like to go._

_Looks shared between judge and lawyer. You rise from your chair. No one stops you. There’s no one in the room besides the judge, the lawyer, one guard, and you._

_You walk out the doors and keep walking until you’re in the lobby with three other people. They look at you like they’re expecting something but you have nothing to say._

_John holds your hand as you leave. You feel guilty._

One day.

24 hours later exactly and you look out the window.

The sun hasn’t set. The time isn’t right. The phone’s been used, numbers written and erased, names memorized, streets already known.

You have your hour and your location.

You’ve always kept three blades in your collection sharpened and oiled better then the other ones. They were a set, gift from Bro when you turned 16. One Katana, the long one, with a Wakizashi, a slightly shorter sword, and the Tanto, a knife more than a sword but bigger than the average hunters knife.

You brought the Tanto with you. The bag was checked, it wasn’t an issue. Its small enough that you can fit it in a backpack, but big enough that the handle is like a sword. It’s beautiful, really.

Its 3pm though. Just 24 hours after the testimony. You need at least 8 more hours. Need it to be absolute dark outside.

 

“So, do we get a tour of Texas the Dave Strider way, or is that not a thing you’re up for?”

 

You smile at John. Not the fake kind of I’m-hiding-shit-and-I-hope-you-cant-tell smile, the real kind because you don’t need to fake smiles with John.

 

“I actually figured we could walk around a bit in my old neighborhood and grab some dinner.”

 

It’s not a lie either. You had time to kill after all.

 

“That sounds nice. But you’re not allowed to skip all the embarrassing stuff when you start talking about your childhood.”

 

“Like I’ve done anything embarrassing ever. Please.”

 

He laughs, you smile. He makes a three star hotel room look like a five star penthouse. You should have brought your camera.

 

“Oh hey, so, I don’t really know how you feel about this, but I was thinking…”

 

“Don’t hurt yourself.”

 

“Shut up. I was thinking I could, I guess meet is the right word? I wanted to meet Bro. If that’s ok. Is that weird?”

 

You can only stare. You’re still wearing your shades, haven’t taken them off. He looks nervous.

You didn’t think John would want to go to Bro’s grave. You had assumed that would be a solo trip, and one you did after tonight. You didn’t want to go to him empty handed.

But, John was your family now. He was going to be, legally. Didn’t other people introduce family members to significant others? And Bro was important to you, just like how John is important to you. Its not like you hadn’t thought about doing this, its just you didn’t think John would actually want to.

He didn’t know Bro, so why go see a piece of rock with his name on it?

 

“I…yeah never mind I’m sorry that was weird. It’s totally cool, or shit I didn’t mean to cross a line or anything. Sorry.”

 

Fuck you waited to long to speak.

 

“No, hey I actually…think that sounds nice. You just threw me off guard. I was gonna mention it, but shit John I didn’t think you’d really wanna.”

 

He does the thing where he lights up like how stars appear after the sun goes down.

 

“Why wouldn’t I want to meet someone who was important to you? I mean, you knew my dad. I’m really glad you met him. I don’t know, I guess I just thought it would be like that?”

 

John doesn’t talk about his dad that often. You know he’s not fucking with you if he brings up his dad.

 

“Lets go. Right now.”

 

“Like NOW now?”

 

“Now now.”

 

“Should I tell the girl or…”

 

“They’re probably doin their nails or some shit. We’ll all go to see him before we leave together, but lets just go now as the two of us.”

 

“Yeah, ok. Alright let go.”

 

You head out, noticing a note left by Rose and Jade, explaining that they were hanging out in the hotel pool if they were needed.

 

The taxi ride was short. You hadn’t buried him far away, just a small place still in the city. You had wanted a cemetery unconnected to any kind of church, and the one you found was old and quiet despite the surrounded street life.

You led John by hand through the gates. There was no security, just a fading path. You didn’t remember the exact spot because you had only been to the very tombstone about 3 times. The first time to burry, the second to cry, and the third to give parting words to. When you left Texas you went to say goodbye to him, but you never did. You couldn’t, you weren’t ready. You never really learned how to say goodbye properly. The people in your life were expected to last a lifetime, stay with you forever. You knew ways of greeting, not farewells.

 

“I almost expected it to say “Bro” on it.”

 

Something really hurts you that John found his grave before you did.

 

“I thought about it, but in the end went for the really sentimental full name shit. Made it-

 

“Ironic?”

 

You give him a look. John just smirks like a smug idiot.

The gravestone has a large RIP at the top, followed by DIRK STRIDER, and an engraved sword under the name. It has nothing else but the numbers signifying his lifespan. It was too short.

It was very small and simple for a man that influenced your life so greatly. But it was only a piece of rock, left to memorialize a person’s life for anyone to see. A stranger would see this stone and know nothing about the man buried there.

 

“He was a god damn genius you know.”

 

But it didn’t say he was on the grave. It felt good to say it out loud, have another person hear you while you spoke about him, and who he was.

 

“He could program anything, was always fixing and making shit. Sometimes people thought he was weird because he didn’t talk much or wore different stuff but he didn’t give a fuck. Or maybe he did, but he didn’t show it. He also was really fucking weird but still a genius. And not even like some high school genius who could pass the really hard math tests, but like NASA genius. And he taught me how to fight. I could never beat him, he was too fast. He was amazing though. Kicked my ass. Could kick anyone’s-

 

You stop talking there because it’s not true. He couldn’t kick _anyone’s_ ass because in the end he didn’t win against one person. John grabs your hand, gently using the tips of his fingers to uncurl your fist so his palm can come flush to yours.

 

“He was like a hero to me, and I can’t even remember the last thing I said to him.”

 

John leans in close to you, and his head bumps the side of yours gently.

 

“I think he’s be proud of you, Dave.”

 

“Proud of what? I never did anything that great. I was a giant pussy after he died and was a looser most of the time after that.”

 

“You did what made you happy. You did what you wanted to and always stuck with that. That’s not a bad thing, its admirable.”

 

“You’re just sayin that ‘cuz you love me.”

 

“But Bro loved you too dummy.”

 

He’s got you there. But you still don’t know if you agree. Bro was weird and awesome and scary sometimes but you never doubted that he cared about you. You firmly believe he did love you, even if you never said it explicitly to each other as far as you can remember. But proud? You could never beat him in strife rounds, never program shit, never make music like his, never keep a perfectly calm attitude, never hold a flawless poker face. He might have been proud of things like that, but what you have now, you don’t know what he would be proud of.

 

“Dave, you’ve loved me for a long time, right?”

 

You turn your head sharply.

 

“Yes. Yeah. Before we were even in high school.”

 

“But romantically, you never asked me out or told me until a few weeks ago.”

 

“…Yeah.”

 

“You could have left me at any time, could have just left if you felt like it, but you didn’t. Instead you told me how much you loved me despite the bad situation you were putting yourself into.”

 

“…Only because of Jade and alcohol though. I didn’t have the balls to really tell you like I should have.”

 

“But you still told me, and more importantly you acted on it and we’re together. You’re supporting me through something a lot of people wouldn’t be able to.”

 

“Only a complete asshole would leave their dying friend, John.”

 

“But it proves how good a friend you are for staying.”

 

You don’t really know how to respond to that.

 

“You loved me, and it gave me a reason to be happy. Dave, you saved me in all these crazy ways. And your brother would be proud of that, because anyone would be proud of that.”

 

You still don’t talk, because how do you respond? You want to tell him you didn’t save him, not in the one way that mattered most. You’re just doing what anyone would do, and in a way it’s about you being selfish because you just wanted John in the end. You just wanted him, and so you decided to be with him. It was never a hard decision.

So what was there to actually be proud of?

 

“You have a whole life ahead of you to do crazy shit and make a name for yourself. So if you don’t think any of that would make him proud, then you’ll just have to work on doing something that will. You have time, so don’t stress it, ok?”

 

You always had time. You had time when you learned to flashstep and the universe slowed around you. You had time when the bell rung just before the teachers in school gave a quiz. You thought time was on your side and you tired to use it but you never really used it wisely. You had time when the apartment was empty except for you and you didn’t know how to pass that time because normally it was so filled with you brother. You had time after the funeral and school had ended. You had time after all those other funerals and you had time before John told you he was dying. And because time is relevant you will have time long after John is gone and his bones freeze and break as seasons change.

You always had time, but you don’t want it anymore. Because it never did you any real good, and the moments you wanted moved just as quickly as the moments you didn’t want. Time was cruel to John, and maybe by extension to you as well, but it had always been at your side, ticking in you mind, following the pulse of your body.

 

“Dave…I know I’ll never _really_ meet bro, because I don’t believe in any ghost stuff and I certainly don’t believe in heaven or that hell bullshit, but I just want to say out loud that I’m grateful he cared for you. I’m happy someone loved you and protected you, and I wish I could thank him. I love you, and part of the you I love was influenced by him. So I’m grateful.”

 

“He would have probably thrown his creepy puppet at you and then demanded a strife.”

 

“I seriously doubt he would have demanded I fight him considering my whole cancer thing, but if I must to win your hand then so be it.”

 

“He would have kicked your ass dude, no question.”

 

He is quiet as he leans into you again, the small smile on his lips imprinting on your shoulder. Even though he’s taller he fits there. You assume he gets that you can’t be overflowing with honesty at the moment because like Bro himself, you have terrible communication and social skills, resulting in an inability to express extreme emotion in healthy ways. John was a fucking romanticist and could make sad shit work and express his grief. You let bits of it leak out like gasoline until the tiniest ember sparked your explosion. You didn’t keep your cool when shit hit the fan, you turned boiling hot like melted iron and red hot steel. And Rose, she would erode like a rock that hurricane waves crashed into second by second until she wasn’t even a smooth surface, she was just gone. But Jade and John did not explode. They did not erode or slip or stumble their way to misery. Jade fell like a stone and the sound of it hitting the walls and the floor echoed for miles and all you could do was stop and listen, waiting to see if more rocks would fall, if the earthquake was beginning or ending.

John broke. He broke like all of you did, but his pieces didn’t fit right when you tried to put them back together and there was no way to hide those holes and cracks. Because where you exploded and Rose eroded and Jade fell, John shattered. And all the fragments that remained were taken up by the wind and scattered into the world, and you knew that he was gone.

John wasn’t breaking just yet, and you weren’t igniting and exploding, but you were leaking that gasoline.  

 

 


	30. Chapter 30

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> self-de·struc·tion   
> noun  
> The act or process of destroying oneself or itself.

 

 

You didn’t really trick John. You swear you did not force him to do anything or make him think he had to. You had taken him to the bar and you had said you needed to get drunk, just a little, and because he’s sweet and knows you’re hurting he joined you.

John’s a lightweight. You ordered him hard liquor and kept his glass full.

You didn’t trick him.

But you needed him to sleep.

You did not deceive him.

(You got your fiancé drunk)

You had no ill intentions, he was safe.

(You basically drugged him)

You drank too, just not as much and you had a higher tolerance than he did.

(You tricked him)

You didn’t really trick John.

But he had to be asleep. Had to be warm in the hotel bed and safe behind a locked door only Rose and Jade could get in.

And you? You had to sheath a little blade in your backpack and take a bus downtown. And you had to walk about 2 miles in circles and ask the right questions and avoid the punches that came with most of them anyways.

 

John was safe and warm in his bed. Jade and Rose would probably be soon, if not already.

 

Jack Noir looked like he was only just waking up, and you imagine you resembled the man he killed a long time ago.

 

Standing in his choice surroundings he seemed younger, and taller. He still had a hunch, and he was still too thin in the way rabid animals are.

He was talking with several men of equal filth. One swung a gun from his fingers. Too casual, overconfident. Very dangerous. You couldn’t dodge a bullet.

Noir lights a cigarette in his mouth and blows smoke in another’s face. The group argues and talks for seemingly hours.

When the first punch is thrown you expected it from Noir, his behavior far from tame. But you didn’t expect him to throw it at the largest of the groups members, with obvious muscles larger than most of the smaller one’s body. When the larger did recover, and it way quickly, you assumed the man would kill Jack with his own punch. Another unexpected things though, Noir took the punch well. Not only did he take it and stay on his feet, he licked the blood from his lips and quick as lightning, drew a long, thick line across the larger man’s face with a knife. The gurgle of the large man trying to growl in anger without chocking on the blood flowing down into his mouth was sickening.

The look on Jack Noir’s face made palms sweat. His eyes were black like a shark’s at the scent of blood, and his smile was twisted.

He wasn’t just some criminal, he was out of his mind _insane._

You learned a few things about people that weren’t all together up in the head. Not people with mental illness per say, more people with very dangerous and alarming tendencies. People that loved pain like little kids loved toys. People that wanted to roll in blood and snap bones in their hands. They existed and you had seen them. You had been taught to recognize them, and to never try to fight them.

It was Bro who told you that the most dangerous opponents were the ones that had no self-preservation. The ones willing to die to see your blood spill. The ones that laughed when you bled.

 

_Because pain is a joy to them, Dave. And they ain’t gonna bring you down swift and clean like we would. They’re gonna draw it out and make a performance outta your pain, and even if you cut off their head they will die laughing, trying to bite at your ankles. They don’t fight for self-protection kid. They fight to get off on hurtin others._

It’s not quite his voice because it’s too hard to remember his voice these days, but they were his words. And maybe that’s why you don’t turn around and walk the fuck away. Because his voice could be so much louder and so much more RECENT but its not because of the man standing down the alley.

And because it’s not recent and loud and familiar you watch the group split up and you take that first step in the very wrong direction.

He is close, he is so close and you can practically smell the stench on his skin and his back is towards you.

He is there and putrid and breathing.

He is so close.

You tighten your grip on the wooden handle of a clean blade (you are going to tarnish it forever) and you didn’t know your palms were so wet (you are not shaking because you are strong and determined and you do not shake) but you tighten your grip (you will break it, you want it to break).

You inhale.

(You do not exhale)

It is the movement of your blade through the smoke from his cigarette and it is the glint of his eyes and the twist of his body. It is the blood on his jacket (cherry red, crimson red) luminescent against the black.

They are the flickering images you will always remember as he moves so fast and so easily and your blade goes right into his arm instead of his back.

He catches you on the jaw like a cinderblock falling and you are thrown from your feet but you roll (Bro taught you how he taught you everything) and you are standing face to face with only a few feet in between.

He is looking at you and it feels violating.

He does not remove your tanto blade.

 

“I was wonderin when I’d see ya again blondie.”

 

His voice is gravel and chalk. (You are not afraid.)

 

“You killed my brother.”

 

He probably couldn’t hear you, you are too quiet. (You are a mouse and he isn’t a cat he is rabid coyote)

But he laughs. And you see red, and you move you fly you flash to him and you have a hand on the blade a hand on his neck and his back on a wall.

He still laughs but he doesn’t throw a punch he doesn’t fight back. His lips are still crusted with blood.

 

“I killed lots of people. Don’t take it personal kid.”

 

You slam his head against the wall and his spittle decorates your cheekbone.

 

“You fucking murdered him, and I’m gonna tear you apart for it.”

 

“Little boy likes playin’ justice eh?”

 

You see the movement and move out of the way just in time. He may have a blade in the arm but if you had a knife in the stomach you wouldn’t last long.

 

“Yer daddy shoulda taught ya how the real world fuckin works.”

 

You cannot grab your blade because now he has the handle in his hand and he pulls (there’s so much blood) it out so easily.

 

“What the hell did he do that pissed you off so much? He didn’t do shit, and you fucking killed him.”

 

“I don’t even know what yer talkin about boy. Why don’t ya get lost before I start getting serious.”

 

You take another chance and step diagonally, going for his side and his bloody arm. He slashes at you with your own blade and you have to retreat.

 

“You’re a fucked up sick bastard and you killed a man 8 years ago with triangle glasses and a baseball cap. You killed him and I wanna know why before I kill you.”

 

“Kill me? boy, even if ya manage to get me down yer gonna be dead by morning. Ya aint shit here, this is my-

 

“ _Why_ did you _FUCKING kill him?_ ”

 

He makes the first move this time and he catches the side of your shoulder. You throw a fist to his arm and you feel the skin and blood pulse under your flesh and its so sickening but it forces him to drop his own knife. He stumbles, and he growls at you with red teeth.

 

“Maybe he was just an annoyin lil shit like you.”

 

And he gets you. He slashes at you again but you stumble and you don’t have time to recover before his knife goes straight in the flesh between your collar bone and your shoulder. It isn’t close to your head or heart but the blood bubbles up and you feel a burn like frostbite and its bad (you aren’t some hero why did you think you were) its bad you’re bleeding a lot (you are not a hero) and you just barely miss his next swing (you are not a hero).

 

“You remember. I know you remember because I bet he really pissed you off and he probably gave you some good cuts. You would remember him. So don’t fuck around and pretend you don’t.”

 

“Alright boy. You wanna know how big brother died before ya fuckin bite the dust too?”

 

He’s attempting to catch you with your own blade, but it’s bigger than he’s used to and he missed (only just).

 

“Blondie is walkin down these streets and he sees me. I got blood on my hands and my nice coat and even my fuckin hat, and blondie is fuckin starin at me like he thinks he’s some hot shot.”

 

Another swipe at your body. He grazes your chest. You don’t dare pull out the knife but you are holding your hand around the wound and you palms aren’t wet with sweat anymore.

 

“Blondie comes over and asks me if I’m dyin, if I need fuckin medical attention. But he doesn’t know that the blood aint mine so I say fuck off. And he doesn’t fuckin leave, no he’s gotta keep askin me stupid question so I make a go at him.”

 

You are backed up to a wall and this time when he goes for you the blade hits the wall as you dodge and when it bounces back he stumbles but you aren’t in the position to trip him (you need to listen, have to listen).

 

“He tells me to ‘chill’. I say fuck off. He says he’s only tryin ta help, tryin ta help a poor sucker out. So I go at him and I get him good in the side.”

 

He’s not even going after you anymore. You are both standing, bleeding (so much blood) and waiting.

 

“He fuckin punches me in the gut like a cheap bastard. I drop my knife and he’s standin there right by me, and the fucker is still askin me if I’m sure I don’t need a hospital. So I grab his fuckin leg and twist it and then I stab him in the stomach til he coughs blood.”

 

You are waiting. You are listening (waiting for the rest, need to hear the rest) and you are waiting.”

 

“Yeah he gave me a good struggle I guess, got me a few times, but he was gone. Sucker bled out all over the place and I got him good on the neck too.”

 

You are waiting and you are listening and you are waiting for the rest. You are waiting for the rest of this story.

 

“That’s what happens when ya mess with me boy. Ya die. Ya die stupid and alone like he fuckin did.”

 

You are waiting.

 

“The-

 

You are waiting.

 

“Fuckin-

 

You are waiting.

 

“End.”

 

 

Your blade had sailed through the smoke and air at the beginning but now you move through the night like a dart and the sound you make is inhuman and mad. The man Jack Noir does not have time to move or run or cry for help because the knife in your skin in now in your hand and the tip of that knife is going straight through his palm.

The sound of your tanto hitting the stone drowns out the last of your cry as you land, heavily and drenched with blood, on the man that murdered your brother.

He lifts his other hand.

Your fist lands on his brow.

It lands on his nose, his jaw, his eye, his cheek, his teeth.

You hear bones break and you do not know if they are yours or his (you don’t want to know) and you feel his body jump as he tries to kick you off.

And your blade is right there.

And he is still alive.

_And your blade is right there._

 

“Dave!”

 

_It is the movement of your blade through the smoke from his cigarette and it is the glint of his eyes and the twist of his body. It is the blood on his jacket (cherry red, crimson red, your eye color red,) luminescent against the black._

But it is also the sound of a voice from behind your back and tapping of steps that stop at a distance.

It is the voice of an angel calling out to a demon and it is the blood on your hands and the blood on the ground.

It is the sound of you fist against bone and the feeling of blood slick fingers clawing at your wrist.

 

“Dave stop!”

 

It is the command of a god to a devoted follower.

It is your fist colliding with air, and stopping before it touches anything else.

It is the silence between two people and muffled curses of a third.

 

“Dave…”

 

It is the sound you make when you try to talk.

It is the sob that burst from your throat and the cry that echoes after. It is the feeling of a wooden handle in your palm.

 

“Don’t do it, Dave.”

 

(And you cannot speak. You cannot speak.)

 

“If you kill him, you’ll be a murderer just like him, and you will go to jail.”

 

(You are not shaking because you do not shake.)

 

“You will go to jail, and I will die without you.”

 

When you turn just a little he is a silhouette to your eyes, but when you turn more he seems closer and he is clear and clean and vivid. He looks down at you because he is standing, and he looks down at you because you have failed in every way.

(The angel looked down upon the demon)

He looks at you with eyes so scared and eyes so wide.

(And the angel was horrified)

And you look back and you don’t know how you look.

(And the demon, covered in sin, could only stare)

 

“Dave, I’m here. Come back to me. I’m right here oh god is that your blood? Oh god Dave please come back to me.”

 

You are standing now, looking at him and he is your sun and your moon and your world and you are the dirt and the blood and the filth of mankind.

You are tarnished like your blade, and he is tarnishing his hands as they hold your face.

 

“Dave, Dave, Dave it’ll be ok, my Dave, Dave, Dave-

(The angel wept for the demon)

He struggles with a wobbling lip and trembling hands.

(And the demon could not bear such pain)

You can only let your head fall and grit your teeth so the scream you release does not shatter the world.

 

“ _John._ ”

 

“You need to get to a hospital, I’m going to take you to one ok? Its gonna be ok, Dave it’s gonna be ok.”

 

“J-John…”

 

“I’m right here, I am right here Dave look at me.”

 

Red rimmed oceans. His eyes still leak but because of you and what you did.

 

“…I’m sorry.”

 

“Its ok. This will be ok.”

 

You don’t know what to do anymore. Both of you had drifted, floated away from the alley where a man in a suit stumbles and curses the spits blood but breathes. You limp, leaning heavily on the man you love and getting blood on his clothes while a murderer runs away.

 

“I’m calling an ambulance now, ok? Its ok. Stay with me Dave, I’m here, just look at me.”

 

The night air is warm and sweet. The glow of streetlights is softer than clouds and John’s voice is a whisper.

The air is warm and you feel so cold and tired, and John feels so large. There is blood on your hands and some of it’s yours but not all of it.

Not all of it is your blood.

 

“It’ll be here soon, Dave can you hear me? Dave, please look at me.”

 

Your eyes are lazy when they turn to his and he is soft looking. Soft like you need glasses soft.

 

“I need you to stay with me. Please Dave, please stay here with me.”

 

“…will you stay with me?”

 

Your voice is too far away. It doesn’t sound like yours.

 

“I wont leave you for a second, but you have to stay with me too, ok? Just keep breathing and stay with me for a little longer.”

 

You’ll stay with him forever though. Why only a little longer when it could be forever?

 

“…Dave…”

 

It echoes in your ears and caresses you heart and his face is soft but his eyes are softer. His lips are moving but you are cold and his arms are warm.

 

 

_It is the movement of your blade through the smoke from his cigarette and it is the glint of his eyes and the twist of his body. It is the blood on his jacket (cherry red, crimson red, your eye color red,) luminescent against the black._

_It is the sound of a voice from behind your back and tapping of steps that stop at a distance._

_It is the voice of an angel calling out to a demon and it is the blood on your hands and the blood on the ground._

_It is the sound of you fist against bone and the feeling of blood slick fingers clawing at your wrist._

_It is the silence between two people and muffled curses of a third._

_It is the sound you make when you try to talk._

_It is the sob that burst from your throat and the cry that echoes after. It is the feeling of a wooden handle in your palm._

_It is the call of your name as you fall and the feeling of his arms around you, coated in blood (not all yours, its not all yours)._

_It is the light on an ambulance and feeling of pain._

 

 

 

 


	31. Chapter 31

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> love is illogical in the sense that it serves no biological purpose to still love the dead.

 

 

 

 

 

 

_“Why do we have to do this its like a million degrees out and I have a paper to write this is stupid and also its not a million degrees its like fucking five billion degrees.”_

_“Quit whining and get your ass up here.”_

_You inhale deeply._

_“But Broooooooo-_

_“I will take your laptop and make a robot out of it if you do that shit do not test me I’ll name it Dave Jr. and it will sing Japanese pop songs.”_

_“Holy fuck I’m coming jeez.”_

_“How’s school goin anyways. Grades decent enough?”_

_You finally make it to the top of the stairs where he’s waiting. The wave of heat coming from the open door behind him makes you want to die._

_“Like you haven’t been hacking into the school computers and checking all that shit.”_

_“It hurts me that you would accuse me of something so criminal.”_

_“You totally hacked the security cameras when I was in middle school. They always followed me, it was creepy as fuck.”_

_“I have absolutely no idea what you’re talking about. Ready?”_

_Fuck its so hot out._

_“Whatever ya creep. Yeah, ready.”_

_He waits for you to make the first move today. He’s been doing that more often you realize. You try to approach him in a new way every time, even though you know you will never really surprise him. You go for head on today. Straight forward and up as you bring your sword downwards. He blocks easily (always does) and pushes you back with enough force that you flip before you land on your feet._

_“It’s pretty damn cool you’re top of the class lil man. Colleges are gonna start fightin over you soon ya know.”_

_You block a side blow from him. You almost don’t though._

_“I just-fuck-get lucky.”_

_You’re already panting. He doesn’t look like he’s even sweating._

_“Well whatever you’re doin it’s gonna get you attention. Bet there are some cute girls already swoonin. I would say boys but there’s probably only like one since it’s a public school in Texas._

_“Whatever.”_

_“Or maybe ya still got that big ass crush on your John pal.”_

_“Fuck you! You said you didn’t read my shit anymore you fucking stalker!”_

_“I aint read shit dude, its all over your face whenever I mention his name. Hell, you used to light up like a Rudolph’s nose whenever I said the kid’s name.”_

_“He’s just cool and we’re-ow goddamnit-good bros.”_

_“Whatever makes ya happy little man. You’re footings off.”_

_“No its n-_

_You land on your ass when he knocks one of your legs out from under you, and there’s a sword at your throat while you try and catch your breath. He’s got that I-told-you-so look all over his fucking face._

_“Don’t let emotions distract you in a fight dude.”_

_Bastard. Using cheap manipulation to cloud your thoughts. He offers you a hand. You get up on your own._

_“That’s a fucking low blow using my personal shit like that.”_

_“I only did it to-_

_“To toughen me up yeah whatever. Not everything is gonna be a strife Jesus. At least not in hot as balls Texan heat.”_

_“Dave, you gotta learn to not let other people get under yer skin. Coolness and irony will only shield you from so much.”_

_You look over at him. He looks completely clean, not a spot of dirt on his white polo. His back is straight._

_“Yeah, well, not everyone is a fucking robot like you.”_

_“Go talk to yer boyfriend already. And take a shower dude.”_

_He disappears before you can even call out a ‘fuck you’ in his direction. The cuts he gave you were light, and the only thing that hurts is you ass from falling._

_When you get out of the shower he’s gone, and when you leave for school the next day he isn’t there either. He’s not there when you get home, and he’s not there the day after that, or the day after that._

_In fact, he never steps back onto that roof again._

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

You wake up with a violent jolt and cold, damp skin.

  
“C-come back.”

 

He’s right there, at the edge of your vision with a white polo (not one speck on dirt on it not one drop of blood) and he is leaving. Flash-stepping away but in slow motion and he’s not even looking at you.

 

“Don’t go. Please don’t-

 

Are you’re eye open or closed? There’s too much light but he’s there you can still save him you swear to god it’s not too late.

 

“Don’t _go_!”

 

White polo removed, eyes closed. His skin isn’t just pale it’s gray and translucent. There is nothing to keep him warm except the body bag.

 

_Can you identify this man as Dirk Strider?_

“NO!”

 

Too bright, it’s too bright. Fluorescent lights. Beeping in a rhythm that doesn’t want to keep steady.

 

“-ider? Mr. Strider can you hear me?”

 

The voice only makes less sense of everything and your body hurts. It hurts a lot actually.

 

“Mr. Strider please remain calm, you need to be careful of your injuries.”

 

Injuries.

 

“Mr. Strider?”

 

You turn you head and the light fades a little. You were looking right into the fucking lights. A kind but tired face looks down on you. A woman with floral scrubs and a nametag.

 

“…Where am I?”

 

She looks relieved. Her shoulders visibly ease.

 

“You’re at St. Jones hospital in Texas. You’ve had to get quite a few stiches and you’ve been unconscious for a few hours after admittance.”

 

A hospital? Stitches? What did a strife with Bro end badl-

Bro is dead. Bro died-was murdered 8 years ago.

 

“You’re family is waiting outside, would you like me to let them in?”

 

“…family?”

 

“Yes, you’re fiancé and sisters. They’ve practically been clawing at the door trying to get in! I bet they’d be very happy to see you.”

 

Fiancé.

_John_.

 

“John?”

 

You try to sit up but it hurt too badly. You hiss as you lie back down.

 

“Yes, John is your fiancé, correct? Shall I let him in?”

 

“Yes! Yes, please.”

 

“Alright, I’ll go tell them they can-

 

“No. Just John.”

 

She looks at you with mild concern, but nods. Before she leaves she turn back to you.

 

“We had to give him a small oxygen tank. With his condition and the stress he was under we figured it would be a good idea, just a heads up.”

 

The sound of the door closing echoes in the now empty room.

You bring a hand to your face and cover your eyes, pretending that the cracks between your fingers don’t let in any light at all and everything is black and smooth.

You push your hand into your eyes and bite your lip as everything flashes behind your lids. Events that happened that you wish you had imagined. A night you can never take back. Stupidity. Anger. Pain. Greif.

 

“…why did you have to go.”

 

Your voice sounds scratchy, throat dry. That’s the only reason why it cracks when you talk to a man that is not, and never will be there.

The door click open, and you can tell by the wait of each step and the time it takes between each one exactly who it is because you have memorized his walk like a music sheet. The little wheels of an oxygen tank are new though.

He does not say a word and the chair creaks as he sits, right beside you (so close but still distant) and when he breathes your heart flutters.

His hand dances over your skin and sinks into your grasp until he is part of you and you can steal his warmth.

It is then that the hot tears drip down your cheek, escaping the pressure of your hand. They pour, leaking from you without permission and wet the pillow.

 

“Dave, I’m here.”

 

He doesn’t say ‘it’s ok’ or ‘calm down’ because John is honest and sweet and selfless and so he says he is here. Because you want him there, and you need to know he’s there, so he tells you. He is with you, and he will stay with you.

 

“He knew about you-before he-he knew who you w-were and I couldn’t-

 

You stop and try to breathe but a sob bursts out. You wont break down yet.

 

“I couldn’t remember the last t-thing he ever said…but it was-it-he knew-he knew I liked you and h-he was just teasing but he knew he said your name-

 

“Dave I don’t understand…”

 

“Bro knew-his last…his last words, John.”

 

“…Bro’s last words?”

 

“He said ‘go talk to your boyfriend’. He was talking about you, and then he…was gone.”

 

You’re still having a hard time breathing normally, but you do remove your hand now so you can look at John. He has little tubes under his nose that run down to the tank but his eyes are just as blue as they always were, just as blue as sapphires and summer sky. He has been crying, and he is crying now. Little drops compared to yours, but still there.

 

“Don’t go too John.”

 

You crumble into yourself and burn as you fall apart. You loose every part of yourself but you loose it all in his arms as he holds you while words and sounds and tears echo from your body. He holds you tight enough that you think you might just remain intact and you hold him as tight as you can without hurting yourself.

He kisses your tearstains as you cry for the person you lost and the person you will, definitely and eventually, loose. 

 

 

 

 

 


	32. Chapter 32

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I'm sorry its a late update, no internet last week :[  
> thank you for reading so far and the comments are way too nice, all of you are amazing

 

 

 

 

 

 

He is a dying star.

Most people would never see it, but you see his eyes so of course you can watch it all unfold.

Those red supernovas finally bursting.

Everyone always spoke about how poetic and beautiful a star dying was. They always said it was a burst of light and color and it was a fantastical event that you couldn’t look away from. But that was what it _did_ look like you supposed.

But when it came down to it, a dying star was another form of energy going out and ceasing to exist. People seemed to forget that when stars died it wasn’t just the stars themselves that exploded or collapsed, it was bundles of planets and these other things that existed too but had to die. They were caught up in the line of fire and that light that had so wonderfully lit their existence ended up taking them down with it.

So from far away you suppose it’s a lot like fireworks. You see the pop and the colors and then darkness, but you’re not part of that darkness. You’re not part of that solar system that saw its last sunrise and sunset.

All those stars out there are life forces. They are the essential of the essential and without them there is no life. While they burn, planets grow. And when they go out, everything ends.

Dave Strider was your dying star. He was your sun, and you watched him rise, and you watched him fall. You’ve seen those eyes burn and freeze and explode and they hold just about everything that you are.

Though he is beautiful, there is nothing lovely about his destruction. He’s at the edge of explosion, and you’re right in his ring of gravity. It fits in that way, how he’ll see you burn and burn all the rest as well. You who would be a small and clouded planet compared to him as the sun, serving no function to your little solar system while he is a all but a god. He’d burn brighter than anything that ever existed, and you’d be gone. And then everything would be gone.

Your dying star. Your fragile love.

He should know by now that everything he does affects you.

 

“John…”

 

He will ask for your forgiveness one thousand times today and you want to reply by giving it. You don’t want to because you are angry and hurt by the decisions he made, but in the end he made them without thinking of you.

That was what hurt the most. How clearly he had not considered the fact that you would be affected by what he did. That you would be one friend short on your deathbed because someone was in prison, or someone was dead because they tried to fight a killer.

Dave does not scare you in the way that monsters scare little children. He scares you by not having resistance. He scares you because he was going to do it. He was going to use that blade and end the life of another person. You would never fear for yourself though. You would fear for the rest of your life that Dave would destroy himself through his own actions. Despite being physically capable and wiling to kill, he would mentally never be able to cope with what he had done in the long run. He would try to justify it, and he could probably trick himself for a bit, but it would destroy him.

 

“John I’m sorry…”

 

And he should be. He who swore so constantly up and down that he would never leave you and he who begged you not to leave when in the end he had been so wiling to let his own desire for revenge take him. To allow himself to be taken from you and thrown in a cell while you rotted away in a hospital bed. You would be angrier if he weren’t in so much visible pain. You always knew that the people you loved the most could hurt you the easiest, but it didn’t help that the pain they caused you hurt the deepest.

You have tubes under your nose wrapping around your ears and down your chest like a snake. You secretly hate them and fight the urge every two seconds to rip them away.

 

“Don’t go…”

 

Echoes. He’ll say it all day probably. He’s drugged with pain killers and high off endorphins and he speaks like a drunk man with a high fever. You wonder just how aware he is of everything. Of what happened, of where he is, of you.

 

“I’m right here Dave. I promise I’m going to stay right here.”

 

Its probably not what he meant or wanted from you but its all you have and all you can say. You lean yourself in, close enough to rest you head on the bed, right below the curve of Dave’s neck. When you breathe you know he feels the air on his skin.

 

“Rose and Jade want to see you, Dave.”

 

“No.”

 

“Dave.”

 

“They can’t see…this. Can’t see me.”

 

“They’re our best friends and all they want is to help you.”

 

“…I only need you.”

 

You lean back to look at him. Red-rimmed eyes that look up at you like their life is ending and you are their salvation. How could he say something like that? How could he say what he did, knowing that you cannot be there for him in the future and that Rose and Jade love him so incredibly?

 

“You only have me for two months Dave. It’s the girls outside that are going to be there and support you after that.”

 

“Don’t-

 

“No, I need to know that you understand. Rose and Jade are going to BE THERE for you, long after I’m gone. And I will be gone, soon.”

 

“Stop.”

 

“What are you gonna do, just cover your ears and pretend everything’s fine? This isn’t new information here Dave! New flash, John Egbert is fucking dying! Oh and his _fiancé_ , the guy who _literally_ just asked him to marry, wants to go fucking murder people! He must reaaalllyy want to marry me if he plans on getting _arrested_ and shit! Must really care about me if he TRICKED ME and ALMOST GOT HIMSELF FUCKING KILLED!!”

 

You have to inhale deeply, trying to catch your breath. You’re so angry you’re seeing red. You are so fucking angry and he looks so damaged and you are just so angry. You love him, but he hurts you, and more than that he hurts himself. You don’t understand why he thinks he can do these things and it will be fine. Does he even know what you’re saying right now? Will he remember what you say later?

Do you care?

 

“You can’t just leave like that. You can’t just disappear and expect me not to panic. And when I went looking for you, for _hours_ by the way, and found you and you were bleeding so much Dave jesus there was so much blood. But you were ready to die there weren’t you? You were going to die in that alley and leave without saying goodbye.”

 

He takes you hand and he holds it just as hard as you hold it back. He’s shaking his head, corn silk hair getting in his eyes.

 

“John…”

 

He opens and closes his mouth and you don’t want to watch him do that anymore.

 

“I love you, and if you love me you will not hurt yourself Dave Strider.”

 

You cup his face and he’s making the face he makes when he tries really hard not to cry because he doesn’t want to break.

 

“For the small amount of time we have left, all I want is you to be by my side and to stay safe, to stay alive. One of us has to, and its not really likely that its gonna be me. So you need to stay alive.”

 

The supernovas expand. They crack and look ready to fall apart.

 

“Dave, make that promise to me. Promise me that no matter what, you will stay _strong_ when I cant. When I’m gone you need to live _for_ me, so you have to fucking live out your life. Now promise me that.”

 

“…don’t wanna.”

 

“Then I wont marry you.”

 

Wide eyes. Beautiful eyes. You never want to forget those eyes.

 

“…You were still gonna marry me?”

 

It wasn’t the answer you were expecting. Quiet voice and hopeful eyes instead of desperation.

 

“Well, yeah? I mean, ok you’re not off the hook you still need to promise me the stuff I said and get better-

 

You can’t finish. He finally broke, but in the end the tears didn’t come because of grief. He had the beginning of a smile while those stars in his eyes leaked.

 

“I love you so fucking much.”

 

He is sobbing while he says it and you suspect he’ll be sobbing for a long time now that’s the dam broke. You want to cry with him, but you wont because you didn’t almost die today. Because you didn’t face a monster. Because you didn’t loose a brother all over again.

You didn’t actually loose anything today. Not even a little bit of your love for Dave. His pain is greater than yours.

 

“I love you too. So much it hurts. Screw you for that by the way.”

 

That gets a wet smile from him. When he smiles you smile and you feel better than you should. He hides his face partway, head tilted to the side with your interlaced fingers lie close to his forehead. He looks smaller every time you look at him.

 

“If I break the rules and get in bed with you for as long as we can before we get caught, will you let Jade and Rose in?”

 

He considers, and nods. You kiss his check and its salty and pulling your hand away as you stand is hard.

Jade and Rose are looking at you with large and anxious eyes. when you gesture for them to come in, Jade rushes past you, leaving a hesitant Rose on the plastic chairs.

She is slow to enter the room, and you can see her shaking fingers. Jade just stands, looking around and unable to decide what to do with her body.

And you climb into the twin sized bed, very carefully placing your arms away from his injuries as he clings to you. Silent tears wet your shirt as he hides in your chest.

 

“...I promise.”

 

You don’t think anyone else could hear him, but your heart shifts and skips in your chest and you swallow harshly. Rose walks over and places a hand on his head. She doesn’t say anything, and you don’t think she can. In the middle of the room Jade covers a sob with a cough and puts a smile on her face not entirely fake.

He is your dying star.

 

 

 


	33. Chapter 33

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> short chapter means sooner update   
> I tried to make it happy

 

 

 

 

_2 Weeks Later_

 

 

 

 

 

The bow tie lies untied against your collar. It is as black as your hair and feels smooth under your fingertips.

 

_Your father would be proud. He would say you look handsome. He might have made the cake in the other room._

 

“Do you need any help?”

 

Jade is wearing a dress as black as the bowtie and it looks beautiful on her because she is Jade and she is beyond gorgeous.

 

“I got it, thanks.”

 

It was the only thing left to do and your fingers had been hesitant. They fluttered to your throat (when had it become thin?) and you tie it into an even bow.

 

_Your father would be so proud._

 

The bow lays flat and smooth underneath the tubes connecting from your nose to the tank. You cannot touch the silk without brushing the plastic, and it is horrible.

 

~

 

You’re waistcoat is not red. It’s blue.

You had decided almost at the last minute that you didn’t really want to wear your colors today, you wanted to wear his. Even though blue wasn’t ever his favorite color, blue is still _his_ color, so you wanted to wear it. He doesn’t know you’re wearing it, but there was never a real dress code. You think he’ll be wearing a normal black tux, but you don’t know for sure.

 

“Your tie is loose. Again.”

 

Rose was probably going to strangle you with it before the day ended. You had a habit of loosening your long black tie and not noticing, and almost every time Rose turned around you did it.

She wordlessly approached you and fixes it. You don’t stop her, she ties it better than you anyways.

 

“It’s almost time. Glasses off Strider.”

 

You obey her because it’s always easier when you do. You slip them off your face and place them in your shirt pocket.

And then you’re just waiting in silence. Your queue is the music, and it hasn’t started. It’s almost terrifying, how you don’t really know when it’s going to come and all you can do is wait.

 

“Would you _stop_ wrinkling your tie?”

 

“Fuck, sorry.”

 

“And here I thought you were known for being so incredible ‘chill’.”

 

“Fuck off this is like THE example of a time where no one is ever chill ever.”

 

You wince a bit as you once again shove your tie back in its correct place. Even though your stiches had been removed the wounds still had some nasty bruising and on the sensitive side.

You don’t miss how Rose’s eyes move to your shoulder, staying there as her mind wonders off.

You haven’t seen Rose genuinely happy in a long time, and you wonder just how long it will be before she gives anyone a real smile. You never thought you’d see someone so sad during this moment of your life.

 

“You look really nice.”

 

It’s enough to get a hint of a smile out of her. It doesn’t reach her eyes, but she does turn to your face rather than your shoulder. She does look nice. A long sleeved black dress with a purple ribbon around the waist. Maybe not the brightest and cheeriest of choices, but black was always a preferred color by her and she always looked right in it.

 

“You look very handsome as well, if I do say so myself.”

 

“Shoulda made you’re move when you had the chance Rose. Too late now.”

 

“It’s never too late for love. Run away and be my bride and you will never work a day in your life.”

 

“You can’t buy love Rose. That’s why we can never be together, you just don’t understand me.”

 

“Think of the children-

 

A strand of notes reaches both your ears and you immediately turn towards the door, frozen.

 

“Shit. Shit, shit fuck ok, ok let bounce.”

 

“Don’t trip.”

 

“Bitch.”

 

She smirks and takes your arm, forcing you to take the first step forward.

 

~

 

You had both decided that you should be the one to wait at the altar, it being easier with your oxygen tank. It was also torture, standing there and trying not to fuss while you just WAIT.

 

“John you saw him yesterday there is literally no reason to be nervous!”

 

“Hey, my wedding, my emotions.”

 

“Shut up the music’s starting!”

 

You mumble a small “you started it” under your breath and she elbows you. You turn back to face the front of the room, a long walkway in the middle of empty pews.

 

_Your father would have sat there, and he would have been proud._

 

 

~

 

He wears a red rose for you.

Had it only been weeks ago that you sent him hundreds of those petals and kissed him for the first time?

Your weeks were years. Every hour had been days. And yet every day seemed to go by in a second and there will never be enough time in the world for you to tell John Egbert just how much you love him and just how lost you will be without him.

He wears a red rose on his jacket, and he looks at you like you are the only thing he has every wanted.

 

~

 

His waistcoat is blue and you think he tried to get it to match your eyes. He always overestimated how blue your eyes were, how beautiful they were. What is so extraordinary about blue when the world is full of blue eyes and blue skies and blue oceans? Yet he still adores your eyes. He finds they breathtaking, and you understand that just about as much as you understand why he would dislike his own eyes.

You love his eyes for him, he loves yours for you.

His waistcoat is blue.

 

~

 

When did you fall in love?

Were you always in love?

Had you loved him since the start without realizing? But no, it had crept up on you like the feeling of warmth and it filled you until you thought you would die unless you had him.

When was the last time you told him you loved him? Was it 16 hours ago? Was it 20? It was too long. You want to hear what he sounds like when he says he loves you right now.

The closer you get to him the more unreal everything feels.

When had you _not_ been in love with him?

 

 

~

 

 

 

Do you feel like crying because you’re so happy, or because you want more time?

 

~

 

 

_“Do you, John Egbert, take this man, Dave Strider, to be your lawful wedded husband?”_

_“I do.”_

_“And do you promise to love him faithfully, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”_

_“I do.”_

_“And do you, Dave Strider, take John Egbert, to be your lawful wedded husband?”_

_“I do.”_

_“And do yo-_

_“I do.”_

_“…then by the power vested in me I now pronounce you husband and husband.”_

 

~

 

 

Its when you are moments from his lips do you whisper you love him, because you have always loved to whisper it like it’s the worlds biggest secret.

He smiles into the kiss, knowing exactly why you whispered it, and when you both part (gently, reluctant) his blue eyes are shiny.

He says he loves you only a volume above your voice, and you remain only an inch apart.

There are rings on both your fingers, but they feel so light, almost insignificant compared to the days and weeks and _years_ of a relationship you shared with the man in your arms.

 

~

 

 

Your name is John Strider Egbert and you want years instead of weeks.

You don’t want a funeral, you want a honeymoon.

 

“You’re crying.”

 

He is so handsome, and he is so gentle. He wipes your cheek so lightly it tickles.

You will love him until you die.

 

“I made it to this point. It’s our wedding, it actually happened and you’re with me and I’m…I’m so-

 

_So broken and in so much pain and why cant I be with you longer why cant I live_

 

“-so happy. And so in love with you.”

 

His smile reaches his eyes and they crinkle just a little as his entire face contorts into the physical expression of complete happiness.

Does he know he has your entire heart?

Will he keep it when you die?

 

 

~

 

His eyes are blue and yours are red and his eyes shine with tears and the blood on your hands is invisible but so permanent. His love is warm and soft and frightened of being hurt and yours is hot, boiling hot and desperate. You are both broken (you are all broken) but you haven’t shattered yet, you are still more or less whole (more or less) and you want to breathe the same time he does and you want your heart to beat in time with his and you want to die when he dies.

 

His eyes are so blue.

 

 


	34. Chapter 34

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> again: shorter chapter means faster update

 

You’re honeymoon will last 2 months. It will last that long because it’s all the time you have, and it will not be enough, but it will be something. It began with an early snowfall, leaves still on some trees, clinging to life. The world was beautiful and silent on the night of your wedding, and you spent it loving John and telling him you loved him.

Your wedding had been small and easy. It was John’s request that the date be set for soon after returning home from Texas. You had plenty of time to plan it out, being stuck in a hospital bed and unable to go anywhere except to take a piss.

Healing yourself was much easier than fixing what little trust and respect your friends still had for you after what you did. You didn’t deserve it, but John had forgiven you. Why he did is beyond you, since your worthless self had done nothing but cause him grief. Jade argued with John instead of you, she didn’t want to talk to you. It had been her relief in your survival (can you call it survival?) that won her over, her anger overpowered by that relief and saving your sorry ass.

Rose did not forgive you. You feel like she still hasn’t forgiven you, only put her feelings on it all aside. It was worse than John yelling at you because at least John did something. Rose only looked at you with eyes so betrayed. You had lost so much of her trust and respect in your actions. You had almost forced her to grieve over both the loss of John and yourself. She didn’t talk to you for days, and at the advice of John and Jade, you gave her space and time. You were the once forced to wait for her to come to you, and when she did it was not with an explosion and tears. It was with calm and collected words that she told you she would do what she could to understand, but that when it came down to it she simple didn’t. She was unable to understand your actions, and as infuriating as that was for her, she used it as your defense.

You wanted to call bullshit though. If anything, Rose had been just as intent on destroying Jack Noir as you. She had violence in her eyes since his name was mentioned, and you think she would have killed him if he had succeeded at killing you. So maybe she understood your actions a little too well, and she was unwilling to judge you for what she also felt. You’ve wondered a lot before about if you were capable of murdering someone, and in the end you don’t like the answer you’ve arrived at.

You are still healing. More mentally than physically now that your wounds have sealed. John asks you all the time if you’re alright, if your doing ok, if you need to talk. Sometimes you do talk, but there’s nothing new to the nightmares. It’s always just a repeat of John dying or Bro dying or you dying. Sometimes they mix, and John will be stabbed to death or you’ll accidentally stab Bro fatally. Sometimes you’re lying in a bed and it’s hard to breathe and John is standing next to you, healthy and sad while you fade away. You often wake up with the after images of blood on your hands and the fogginess of not remembering whose blood it was.

And on every night when you wake up there are arms around you and a voice in your ear telling you its ok, you’re safe, it’s ok.

He loves you so much and it took so long but you finally see that. There’s so much joy to be felt when the person you love loves you back, but it was so hard for you to believe his love was equal to yours. Not because he was cold or less feeling than you, but because you didn’t deserve it and you never loved yourself and saw no reason to.

He says it doesn’t hurt so much as it just takes. It takes his ability to move easily and it takes his energy. It takes his appetite and his comfort. Mostly it takes his breath, and sometimes his voice when it’s that bad. Cancer is a demanding disease. It wants to take everything, and it spreads everywhere, claiming it.

You are loosing him one day at a time, and its visible now. More so than before, you see how very pale his skin is and how desperately thin every bit of his body grows. The cold bothers him and it never bothered him before, it always brought a smile to his face.

His eyes do not fade though. Sometimes they are clouded, but they never loose the luster they always had. While his body fades you can look into his eyes and see John. Your beautiful, magnificent, perfect John.

You are not ready for the two of you to become just you. You wont ever be ready, and you don’t know if you’ll ever be ok with it. But he asked you to live for him, and you promised you would. You would live everyday thinking of him, even though he doesn’t want you to. He told you he doesn’t want to be forgotten, but he will be gone and he should be let go.

You could not promise him that.

 


	35. Chapter 35

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> you are 12 years old and his name is John

 

 

 

 

 

_You are 12 years old and the screen name GhostlyTrickster makes you smile. For some reason they seem closer to you than any of the friends you have around you (if you can even call them that). The dude’s a huge dork and has horrible taste in movies but he’s sweet and a little sassy and you think he’s funny. His name is John._

_~_

_You are 14 years old and his name is John Egbert and you think you have a really big crush on him and you don’t really care that he’s a guy because you knew him before he was even really a guy to you, so why should it matter? He’s adorable and makes you happy so easily and he sends you cool shit. When your Bro asks where you got the new shades you say a friend but what you mean is someone who is strangely deeply important to you._

_~_

_You are 15 years old and you think you might really love him and it scares the shit out of you and makes you an easy target for harassment by Bro but you really think you love him and you feel happy._

_~_

_You are 16 years old and you don’t think he will ever love you like you love him._

 

 

_~_

_You are 17 years old and it feels like you only buried him minutes ago but you’re already halfway across the country and far, far away from the body of your brother. You only let go of Rose when new arms squeeze your body and black hair tickles your cheek. He has the bluest eyes you have ever seen and it’s not fair that the first time you see them your vision blurs with tears._

_~_

_You are 18 and turning 19 years old tomorrow but he comes in your room with a box wrapped in paper and tells you to open it. Its an old polaroid with extra film and he says you can be a real hipster now but all you can do is smile because you still love him and he doesn’t love you but he cares about you so much and knows you so well._

_~_

_You are 20 years old and you hate that no matter who you fuck and who you date they never work because they’re just not what you want in the end._

_~_

_You are 21 years old and wish that he would kiss you even if he’s drunk because all you want is for him to kiss you, for you to feel desired by him even if he wont remember or he’ll think it was a mistake._

_You want him to want you._

_~_

_You are 22 years old and you think maybe you can just get over him and be a regular friend and not the kind of friend that wants to have sex with his best friend._

_~_

_You are 23 years old and you are not ever going to be over John Egbert because everyday his smile and his laugh and his touch makes you want to deteriorate and you cant possible get over someone who is always so wonderful and so painfully close. It hurts so badly but he is so much of your life so what can you do?_

_~_

_You are 24 years old and he’s sleeping on your shoulder and you think this isn’t so bad. If this is all you get its not that painful. Having him this close is enough. Because you love him, so much. You think you’ll love him when you’re both old and gray and that’s ok. It’s enough._

_~_

_You are 25 and John wants to talk to you guys and it sounded kind of serious and you hope its not another bad attempt at another bad prank but you don’t really care because you’ll still smile and he’ll still laugh and you will still love him and he wont love you and its ok. Its all going to be fine in the end like it always is because it is always ok and it will be ok its ok it is ok._

_He sounded a little sick on the phone._

 

_~_

_You are 12 years old and his name is John._

 

 

 

 

 


	36. Chapter 36

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> time can be measured in years and months and weeks   
> or it can be measured in hours

 

 

 

 

 

 

_~_

_1176_

~

 

 

 

“I think it was gradual.”

 

“Hmm?”

 

“Falling in love with you was gradual.”

 

You’re both in bed, enjoying the heat of being bundled up together while snow piles higher by the minute. Dave moves in and out of sleep as you count the almost invisible freckles on his skin. He doesn’t open his eyes while you babble on, and he might still be asleep.

 

“I used to think it was a sudden thing, that it just happened, but that wasn’t it. I realized it in a sudden way, yeah, but I think I always loved you and it just grew more and more until it became too obvious to NOT see.”

 

There’s no response from Dave other than his breath on your shoulder. You don’t mind. You like just talking at him sometimes.

 

“I’ve known you for more than half my life, and loved you for at least 8 years. I loved you gradually more and more every year I knew you but I never did anything. I could have, and it would have been amazing to be your boyfriend all that time ago, but I wasn’t and that’s not going to change. I’m just happy I have you now, because it’s pretty awesome.”

 

You smile to yourself, thinking of all your past attempts at flirting with Dave, in ways so subtle not even Rose caught on to it until you just chickened out and stopped all together.

 

You cough harshly, regretfully jostling Dave as you try to muffle it. But he’s wide awake, holding you and rubbing your back anxiously.

 

“You ok? Do you need-

 

“No, no I’m fine.”

 

You shake you head, dismissing his worry and you take a few deep breathes. He looks at you with large eyes, worried and tired and worn down. He’s aged decades in just weeks in those eyes.

 

“Really, I’m fine. Just the usually gross coughing shit. I would know if it was something else, promise.”

 

“…Let me hear.”

 

It was something he recently starting doing. He would press himself against your back, turning his head to the side and trying to listen to your breathing all the way through your lungs. It was ridiculous to think he could actually hear anything, but you didn’t stop him. He had some reason for wanting to do it, and you didn’t question that.

 

You turn to your side and he curls into your back, his arms wrapping around your chest, gangly legs tangling with yours. His ear goes against your skin and you just breathe in, and breathe out.

 

 

 

_~_

_1008_

~

 

“You haven’t made any new comics in a while.”

 

You turn to look at John, who is munching away at toast as he looks at you with a glassless face. No one should be that attractive eating toast.

 

“I have to be struck by pure creative inspiration. I don’t choose when to make the comics John, the comics choose me.”

 

He snorts, covering his mouth because he probably wasn’t finished chewing. You smirk.

 

“I can’t believe I married a crazy artist.”

 

“Hey, I married a huge nerd.”

 

“At least nerds make money. How will you support me with your poor artist income?”

 

“I’ll be a famous porn star on the side, with you none the wiser.”

 

“I don’t know how I feel about you sleeping with other people for other people to watch.”

 

“Oh I don’t actually sleep with other people, I just record our beautiful love making for the world to see. We’re both secret porn stars, you just don’t know it.”

 

“But what will you do now that I know the truth?”

 

“We’ll have a long discussion about finances and eventually agree that the money is just too good. You’ll review some of the footage and offer advice, and then we decide to quit our normal lives and put on the greatest performance of our career.”

 

“Sounds like one hell of a show.”

 

Oh. You know that voice. That is a very good voice. You like it when he uses that voice very much.

 

“I-well of course I mean we couldn’t let our viewers down and its, uh, we…”

 

“Weird how it sounds so incredible yet here you are, fully clothed.”

 

“…”

 

He gets up, and you watch him as he walks purposefully slow to the sink to wash his plate. You wait patiently as he dries it, and then still slowly, walks past you to the bedroom, brushing your shoulder with his fingertips.

 

You leave most of your clothes in the kitchen.

 

 

 

 

_~_

_840_

~

 

 

“What do you feel like for dinner tonight?”

 

“Depends. Will you actually eat whatever we get?”

 

You don’t like to eat anymore. You basically do it for appearances because otherwise you don’t know if you would even bother. Dave seems to count every bite of food you take. He doesn’t understand the feeling of tasteless weight sliding down your esophagus, taking your valuable breathing space, sitting in your stomach and making you feel sick.

 

“Depends on what you wanna eat.”

 

“Fine. Spicy curry or meat lovers pizza?”

 

“I will never get tired of how much you love spicy food but how badly you handle it.”

 

“Sometimes the greatest flavors require sacrifice. You just wouldn’t understand, John.”

 

“Wow I truly have much to learn. Alright, curry it is then.”

 

His hand stops you from grabbing your phone, and you’re caught off guard when he kisses you swiftly on the jaw.

 

“You have to eat. I need you to eat.”

 

And then his fingers gently curl around your wrist, and you watch as his thumb and middle finger easily meet over your veins.

You can only look at his fingers, pale and long and once the same size, if not smaller than yours. Now they seem huge while you shrink. But you had no idea how much your body had lost in such a short time.

When did you become something fragile?

 

“It’s not going to get any better if I eat. It doesn’t matter.”

 

And he looks at you with unguarded eyes that make you feel like a child and he is steady while you are caught in a breeze.

 

“You still have to keep your strength up. It fucking does matter, ok?”

 

You cry, silently. He wipes the tears away and kisses your forehead but all he can do is hold you. You cry and you cant even hit anything because if you do your wrist might break and your paper-thin skin might tear and your fragile, fragile body might fall apart.

 

 

 

 

 

_~_

_672_

~

 

It only ever gets harder, and you’re not used to that. There’s usually a light at the end of the tunnel and something to make it worth everything you gave up but this time its just, hard.

He only ever gets weaker, and it is killing you. It is _destroying_ you. You don’t know how much he even realizes it, and when he does realize all the small things that he can no longer do you watch with an agonized heart as he turns away in defeat. You’ve watched as he realized that no he can’t walk up all those stairs without pause and no he can’t lift that much anymore and no he can’t even go out without his oxygen tank. It happened in moments of casual days and hits you both like tidal waves.

You hate being the strong one. You hate that you can do things that he cant. You hate how normal you look and how drastically he has altered.

You hate that it was him (why wasn’t it you) because he did not deserve this he deserved the world (he deserved the universe) and you deserved nothing so why did it have to be him?

Rose wants you to see a therapist but you don’t have time for that, you need to be by his side every single second and when he’s not home you need to be waiting for him. Jade waits with you sometimes, and she’ll clean up in places you both just forget or haven’t gotten too and she’ll remind you to eat, to shower for fucks sake and to smile for a change. You both are bullied to leave the apartment occasionally for fresh air and change in atmosphere. You don’t really care because as long as you’re with him it’ll be ok.

But it wont be ok.

It’ll just get harder.

He can only die sooner.

 

 

_~_

_504_

~

 

 

“Can we stay in bed today?”

 

He’s been awake for hours, you’ve both been awake for hours, lying in silence as your hands caress lazily and your eyes fall shut for long periods of time. He never gets up unless you get up, and today you don’t want to get up.

Your body is heavy, and it hurts, and you want to lie next to Dave for longer. You want to feel warm, and safe.

 

“Only if we watch something stupid.”

 

His breath tickles, and this close it feels so comforting. He is so close, and it feels so wonderful. You can see every eyelash framing red. You smile because of course you’re going to watch something stupid. You’re going to put some dumb movie on your computer and you both won’t even pretend to pay attention and you will spend hour after hour memorizing every inch of one another. You will trace the circles under his eyes and the curve of his lips. You will tap melodies on his collarbone and brush your fingers along his jaw. You will feel the sharpness of his cheekbones and eventually you will kiss the tip of his nose.

You love him more than you need air.

 

 

 

_~_

_336_

~

 

 

There are 24 hours to full day. 1440 minutes. 86400 seconds. A full week, 7 days, is only 168 hours. That’s 10080 minutes, or 604800 seconds.

4 months is 2922 hours.

Over 2000 hours, and now you have less then 400.

It hurts the most because you are counting every single god damn second, and you are counting every single one of his breaths and every kiss, every touch, every laugh, every word. And every thing you love about him, every action he performs, it takes away seconds and minutes and hours.

He inhales, and he exhales. Time passes and you cant do a single fucking thing. Because he inhales and there is a chance he will not exhale.

Shadows dance across surfaces as the sun rises and sets and time slips through your fingers while a human life begins to end.

 

 

 

 


	37. Chapter 37

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John's POV

 

 

 

 

 

Lips move and words form. It’s a forms of communication created by intelligent beings, a combination of sounds understood and copied. Organic mechanics working to release so many syllables and octaves.

 

“-bert?”

 

Raised in pitch at the end of the word to indicate a question. Universal in language to most all humans no matter what country. Was it natural or was it decided by someone?

 

“Mr. Egbert?”

 

And that is your name, given to you like a gift from your father and passed down again and again from blood to blood. John is unique to your own being though. John is your title, you’re chosen but fitting name. It is a simple, intimate thing for someone else to use that name.

 

“Mr. Egbert, we’re done with the scan now. Can you hear me? Are you in any pain?”

 

Pain. Who asks a cancer patient if they’re in pain? Of course you’re in pain. You can barely BREATHE. Every time you cough it feels like your entire body is being burned and you end up with blood on your tongue.

 

“I’m fine. How long before I get my results?”

 

You don’t want to be stuck in the hospital any longer. Its not like there’s ever any good news so why you are urged to visit so frequently is beyond you. Nurses always give you sad looks and doctors always put on fake smiles because it is _so fucking obvious that you’re dying_. You know it, they know it, everyone knows it. Big fucking deal.

 

“It shouldn’t be long, we already have our specialist looking at the electronic scans.”

 

The woman is saying more things to you but you aren’t listening anymore. You look past her, through the glass that separates the doctors and monitors from the MRI machine and patient. You can see two people in chairs and one person stand behind them, closely looking at the screen. It’s hard to see clearly without your glasses but you can tell that they’re looking back and forth between you and the monitor.

Its when the one standing motions for a doctor outside the room to come in that you begin to realize whatever is on the screen is interesting those around. Interesting things in hospitals usually mean cases with odd symptoms or unidentifiable disease, or most likely in your case, something pretty bad. Bad enough that one doctor doesn’t want to confirm the worst alone.

You are wheeled out of the room by the woman who is still talking. She turns corners you’re too familiar with and it makes you feel sick looking at all the white and cream colored walls.

 

“John.”

 

You can’t help but relax a little as soon as Dave appears by your side. A tired but honest smile crosses your face and he basically pushes the nurse out of the way to wheel you himself.

 

“Hey. Miss me?”

 

“Sorry, were you gone? I didn’t notice. Our love must not be as strong as it was at the beginning. I told you marriage ruins love.”

 

“I guess its time for a divorce then. I’ll take Rose and Jade on the weekends and Monday, you can have them the rest of the week.”

 

“God no, I don’t want Rose for that long. We better stay together.”

 

“Well if you insist Dave.”

 

You sigh dramatically, as if being with him is the greatest burden of your life. You still can’t help smiling as you lean back and look up at him through your messy bangs.

He leans down and kisses you, soft but lingering, and you will never get enough. He holds your cheek gently with his hand, and lets it dance across your skin even as the kiss ends. He eventually pulls away altogether, using both hands to push you in your wheelchair back to your little sterile room. You let him push but gaze up at him the whole time. He looks almost exactly the same as when you graduated college. Maybe a little more muscle and skin a bit paler, but still the same Dave. His consistency makes up for your difference. Time had not been kind to you in the last few months. You had become thin, much thinner than Dave, and so very weak. Though you skin was naturally darker than his, it had a waxen look to it. 4 months ago you would have looked in the mirror and thought you could pass for attractive. Now you looked like a corpse waiting to be buried. You didn’t know how Dave could even stand kissing you.

 

“Psst, Rose, do you ever get the idea that John might have a crush on Dave?”

 

You can practically hear the smirk on Jade’s face. You just roll your eyes. They can make fun of you all you want, you know you’re a lovesick doofus when you’re around Dave.

 

“Why Jade, I do believe you may be right. In fact, I just so happen to believe Dave might be romantically interested in John.”

 

“No way! How could you tell? Was it the way they cant go 2 seconds without touching each other or the way they look at each other like sappy romcoms come to life or-

 

“Wow, you guys are totally right, it is so damn weird that two people who are married are acting like they love each other. Fucking amazing.”

 

Dave does not seem amused by the girl’s fun. Even after all this time he still gets embarrassed when he’s caught being affectionate. You think it’s cute. He says he is in no way cute, but will accept hot as balls and finer than a celebrity owned handbag.

You smile at Dave arguing with Jade, and Rose walks over to you. She places a hand on your shoulder, like she’s about to say something, but is interrupted.

 

“Mr. Egbert?”

 

Ah. That would be the specialist. He’s looked at your case a few times, but deeming you as a hopeless case, seeing as you had terminal cancer, not treatable, had not often spoken to you. He had nothing to say after all. No alternate routes or possible solutions.

 

“How did John’s scan go?”

 

Dave seemed to startle the man, who looked away from John for a moment to look at Dave, and then around at Jade and Rose. His actions did not encourage John, for he seemed troubled.

 

“Ah, Mr. Egbert, are these your immediate family members?”

 

“Yes.”

 

You didn’t hesitate there. You looked in his eyes, keeping your face passive, your eyes attentive. He seemed reluctant.

 

“…Mr. Egbert you should be admitted to the hospital immediately for intensive care. The tumor growth has reached a dangerous size in multiple parts of your body, and the largest in your lungs will soon cause total lung failure. And with your recent attacks it’s only more apparent t-

 

“How long?”

 

Your voice may be quiet but you don’t think it sounds small. He understands your question. You wonder how many times other people have asked that question.

 

“…Days. Maybe a week. I’m sorry, but there’s nothing more we can do.”

 

Nothing more they can do. When, you wonder, had they even done anything?

 

“Then I see no problem spending the time I have left in my own home.”

 

“But if you had even the slightest asthma attack you could suffocate immediately. If you stayed here you would be monitored and have a reliable oxygen source.”

 

“So that I can die slowly, clinging to life until the exact end?”

 

There is silence in the room. The door has shades that aren’t drawn, and behind it you can see people bustling about, living out daily lives. They are muted. Your head hurts. Your jaw and hands are both clenched and you want to shut your eyes and will it all away, make it all go away…

A soft hand touches yours. Violet eyes stare down evenly at you, compelling you to look back.

 

“John, every minute we have you is a gift. Why risk only having 2 days when you could have 4? Or 7?”

 

“Because I decided from the start that I wasn’t going to die struggling and pathetic! When my body gives out it should be quick and simple and not, not _postponed_ so I can suffocate in some hospital bed!”

 

By now the doctor had stepped back, waiting for an answer but also debating on leaving the room. He looked like a coward to you.

 

“I knew it was coming ok? We all fucking knew. And here it is, right now. This is MY death, coming to greet me. Why should I drag it out?”

 

You shake with the pent up anger and fear and pain and you give in enough to let tears fall. Frustrated, burning tears.

 

“Why cants I just go home? What’s so wrong with wanting to die in a familiar place, where I can hold my husband and sleep in my own bed?”

 

You squeeze your eyes shut and let the angry tears leak. You are aware the Rose has let go of your hand, and that behind you, Jade is crying in the softest way.

And then a new, but wonderfully familiar hand rests on yours. Too big to be Rose’s, and not quite as warm as Jade’s. And you look at him, glasses removed, and he looks into you and through you and every other way while you just look right on back. His beautiful, handsome, young face, which _you_ have tarnished with dark circles under his eyes and downturned lips.

 

“If you want to go home, then we’re taking you home.”

 

You think the doctor tries to protest, but Rose beats him to it.

 

“Just because he wants to do something doesn’t mean you should let him! Dave, you’re only-

 

“When you’re the one dying then I will fucking drop everything and listen to you, Rose. This isn’t you’re decision. It’s only John’s.”

 

The whole time he never looks away from you, and you move and hand to his cheek. Your tears come rapidly now, a quiet waterfall. Rose is quiet, but you know her anger is far from gone. The doctor does leave, something you prefer. Because you are done with doctors and scans and IVs and hospitals. You’re done with all that.

 

“Thank you.”

 

Your voice sounds pathetic.

 

“I love you. I love you a million times forever, ok?”

 

“I love you too, so much.”

 

“Lets get your stuff and blow this popsicle stand.”

 

Getting your stuff includes hooking up the oxygen tank and moving very slowly while everyone else seems to be moving so fast. Dave helps you through every step and walks at your snail pace. Rose has to drive, Jade too unstable to remain calm. You sit in the back with Dave, wondering how much would change if you got into a car crash and you died suddenly. You think about life and how you had descended into death so quickly but so unwillingly. You wonder just how different everything would be if you hadn’t told your friends about your cancer. If you hadn’t gotten cancer. If you hadn’t met Jade or Rose or Dave. If you father hadn’t died.

The snow on the ground is piled high, and makes everything look clean and soft. Wind whips sprinkles of frost all around and spreads the white flakes. You don’t know how you feel about being buried under snow. You guess it’s not really bad. It would be like having a blanket over your grave. You already have the spot anyways. It’s not like you had to think to hard, since where else would you be laid to rest other than beside your father? You would also be cremated by request. When you die you want the body that failed you to burn away to ash, soft and simple and spread in the breeze. You’ve gone over all these things already. Hell you went to a lawyer to get a will drawn up the week you were diagnosed.

Getting to yours and Dave’s room is a relief. It’s familiar clutter and warm air reduce your chills and make you feel more comfortable. The trip to the hospital drained you completely, more so than the news you received did. You want to sleep, and you want to forget the world for a little bit. You’re already sitting on the bed, Dave moving to sit beside you, his body fitting next to yours right where it belongs. You cherish the way his hand slips into yours.

A loud thud makes you jump and look out the door. Rose and Jade would be in your living room, since for some reason they didn’t follow you to the bedroom. Another thump, sounding like an impact. You look at Dave, and he nods.

 

“They could just be rearranging furniture if they want to sleep over tonight, I’ll go check.”

 

He kissed your forehead and disappears into the next room, and you sit, and you breathe in, and breathe out.

A few loud thuds later and it seems quiet enough. You wait, but jump again as a particularly loud one makes the floor vibrate. Annoyed and equally curious, you stand up slowly, dragging your oxygen tank behind you as you make your way out of the bedroom.

 

“-just gonna leave us!”

 

Jade’s voice reaches you through the wall, and you can easily tell she’s crying. You hurt for her, more than you hurt for yourself.

 

“Does he even care anymore? About ANYTHING?”

 

“Jade-

 

“Shut up Dave! Just shut the fuck up and go back to your husband!”

 

“I _would_ if you would just stop _punching our damn walls._ ”

 

“Fine! Its not like I’m needed here anyways! He has you to do whatever the hell he wants regardless of what’s BEST for him, so what’s the FUCKING POINT?!”

 

You grit your teeth and turn the corner. You stand in the doorway, and Dave’s back is to you while he face’s Jade, who refuses to look towards anything other than the wall she’s already marked. Rose isn’t even looking at anyone, instead she sits very still and very quietly.

 

“John doesn’t give a shit about dying anymore Dave. I hope you know that beca-

 

“What?”

 

As faces turn to you, you stand there, mouth open in shock as you look at Jade. The furry blurred with pain as she glares at you makes you want to step back, but it dissipates a little when she looks at you.

 

“You think I don’t give a shit?”

 

You wish you could speak at a louder volume but you just cant. You feel betrayed. You feel burned. And she isn’t even responding, she’s just looking at you while tears run down her face and her jaw clenches and unclenches.

 

“I…do you, blame me? For dying? I don’t-do you not _get_ it?”

 

She won’t say anything, and you feel the rise of anger, yet the inability to really voice it. You lost your ability to yell permanently.

 

“We’re all upset, we get it, but for fucks sake lets not start a fight. Please. Jade, stay or don’t, but John needs to sleep.”

 

“Dave-

 

“John, you _need sleep_.”

 

It’s a sign of how tired you are that you don’t argue that much. He steps to you slowly and takes your hand, trying to lead you back to the bedroom. You hold your position long enough to look into the living room at your two other friends.

Jade stares at the ground, her hands clenched into fists and shaking. When you look at Rose, her eyes are already latched onto yours. Her back is hunched as she sits in a smaller chair, her entire posture giving off a sense of defeat. She looks at you with eyes that simultaneously seem very dead and extraordinarily burdened. And you say nothing, instead letting Dave pull you into the next room.

He closes the door behind you and gently pushes you to the bed, where you fall easily. He joins you after a moment, finding his place in your arms (your thin, boney arms) and wrapping around you. And for a long time, it is very silent, and very heavy.

And then a soft dampness on your shirt makes you reach down and touch the spot that feels wet. Your fingers skim down your neck, and stop as they brush corn silk hair. You freeze momentarily, understanding washing over you, and you move your fingers down his head, leaving your hand on his cheek, letting the tears pool over your skin.

He cries for you but you have no more tears to shed at the moment. Your loss is everything, and that fact makes your feel numb.

 

“Dave, I love you.”

 

His entire body shakes as he lets out one heavy sob, and you squeeze him closer with the strength you have left. You do not say “it’s ok” because it would be too obvious a lie. You think about what the doctor told you. That you only have days left, that any moment could be your death and that would be it. You have officially reached your end.

 

“Dave, make sure I wake up ok.”

 

He continues to cry softly against your skin, and you rub his back, smooth his hair, anything to be of comfort.

When you first were diagnosed you felt such denial, such anger and grief over everything. You found everything so infuriating, down to the sound of birds chirping because they got to live and you didn’t. You acted like a child having a fit in their room. But you did get past the anger and denial. After a little over a week you told Rose, Jade, and Dave, feeling much more confident about beginning to accept what was happening. You were ready to end things with grace, keep it all calm, take one step at a time.

But then when Dave called you that night, the world shook and scattered all your mentality. Because getting Dave, finally, finally getting Dave to be yours and you to be Dave’s, it was too much to have to give up in such a short time. Your time with him fell through your fingers and as days went by like seconds you lost yourself more and more. It was too easy to forget and be happy at the beginning, too easy to ignore the future and just fucking be with him. You fell in love with Dave Strider when you were basically still just a kid, and you skipped through life thinking you had all the damn time in the world to do everything you wanted. And in the end, you didn’t have time. You didn’t get everything you wanted, you didn’t get to go on and do grand things and grow old with your friends, but you did get Dave.

For your short amount of time, you had what you so very much wanted. To love and to feel so impossibly loved, it was enough to make it worth it, while at the same time making it so much worse. Where you thought you could accept you could not, because you don’t know if you can accept that you have to give up Dave.

His silent tears become lesser and you continue to stroke his hair and caress his cheek, and you think to yourself that no, you aren’t ready to say goodbye.

 

 

 

 

 


	38. last breath

 

 

 

“And then when we threw it on the wall-

 

“Oh my god I thought we’d get expelled!”

 

“Dude I thought we’d get sent to jail.”

 

“I think we would have survived jail.”

 

“Rose you would probably have started a gang.”

 

You all laugh at the cheeky smile Rose gives. Jade swings her legs over the edge of the bed, her head competing with John’s for your stomach. Rose lies beside you, playing absently with Jade’s hair.

You had awoken yesterday to an already awake John, who was struggling to cuddle both you, Rose, and Jade. The two girls were sleeping heavily, puffy eyes telling of their misery, while John looked sleepily at you. According to Rose, Jade had left, storming out of the apartment, leaving Rose in the living room, who after some time fell into a fitful sleep on the couch. She was waken up when Jade came back, using the spare key and scarring the shit out of Rose. The two then proceeded to act like stalkers and watch you both sleep before Jade climbed into the bed, waking John but not you. And from that point it became a very long and lazy day of reminiscing and napping, where sadness was still overwhelmingly obvious and aggressive, yet completely ignored. That day turned into the current day, and you all lie on each other, content as you can be in your current situation.

 

“So who is the least likely to burn down the kitchen while cooking?”

 

John doesn’t open his eyes as he says it, and you look down at Jade who is looking at you, and you both turn to look at Rose. She sighs heavily and flicks your forehead.

 

“Only if Dave helps.”

 

“Oh come on I would just make it worse.”

 

“You know where all the ingredients are and you have to clean if I cook.”

 

“That is so unfair-

 

“Fine then no food.”

 

Jade whines and hits your legs.

 

“Dave come ooonnnn just do it.”

 

“Why don’t you fucking do it.”

 

“Because, in order from best cook to worst, it goes John, Rose, you, then me. You are required by rank to assist the current head chef.”

 

You groan and roll out of bed, letting Jade and John’s heads flop on the bed, which only makes them giggle as you follow Rose to the little kitchen area.

 

“Do you have any instant food? Anything that requires no preparation?”

 

“We have some mac and cheese. Boil water, add noodles, add cheese shit.”

 

“Mac and cheese then.”

 

You probably could have made mac and cheese on your own since you’re not totally incompetent. Mostly you know the way the stove works here, which is more than you can say for Jade.

 

“Ok this is the cheap brand so the package has a stupid hidden packet inside the fucking packet so when you pour the cheese stuff don-

 

The sound of heavy coughing makes you drop the package and turn fully around in order to flash step through the living room and past the door to the bedroom.

 

“John?”

 

Jade is holding him upright, her eyes wide and childlike with fear as he shudders and spasms. With horror you notice the specks of blood on his shirt and the droplets leaking through his fingers as he covers his mouth.

 

“John!”

 

You wrap and arm around his back and push him forward, knowing that he can’t lean back or else he might choke.

 

“We need to call an ambulance!”

 

Jade looks on the verge of tears as she reaches for a phone, but is stopped by John’s hand.

 

“John you need to go to the fucking hospital!”

 

“ _No._ ”

 

His voice is thick, clotted with blood but its firm. He stares down Jade, who lowers her hand. Blood drips down the corners of his mouth.

 

“This is insane, John you’re acting like an _idiot!_ ”

 

“Rose, do not c-call the hos-hospital.”

 

“They can help you! For god’s sake _they can h-_

 

“They cant do shit for me other than give me a sedative so that I suffocate and die sooner! How can you not get it? I’m not a patient to any of the doctors there, I’m a _corpse._ So don’t say they can help because th-

 

He breaks off to cough again, this time to get the last of the blood out of his throat. You rub his back, watching him, deaf to the things Rose is saying as you look at his bright red lips.

 

“John…”

 

You didn’t even realize you had said it out loud until he turns to you. Even though the dark circles under his eyes indicate poor health, they only enforce the brightness of his eyes.

 

“Dave, I’m here, look at my eyes, its ok, its over.”

 

But you can’t look away from his mouth. The way the blood smeared at the corner of his lips while he coughs, how he struggles to inhale and release his breath, how the time between each inhale and exhale is so short.

 

“Dave, look at me. Not the blood, look at _me_.”

 

You do look at him, but you cant for long. You can’t let him see you so frightened and small when he’s the one that needs help. You lean forward and curl into him, letting the blond of your hair mix with his black locks. You squeeze yourself against him, and after a moment of hesitation he brings his hands to your shoulder blades.

 

“You’re getting blood on your shirt…”

 

You don’t know what you expected to happen, but different arms encircling you and John was unexpected. By the muscle and roughness of skin you know it’s Jade.

She’s not the one crying though, and you have enough compassion to pull away, only momentarily, to grab Rose and bring her into your hold. She hiccups and tries to wipe her eyes but she gives up, head flopping onto John’s shoulder.

She cries insults gently into his skin, tears mixing into the mess on his shirt. She weeps until she can only cry silently, and by then you all have to lie down and the blood has dried and turned brown.

By the time her tears fade and dry you think she has fallen asleep, and you turn to get a glimpse of Jade.

She is silent and wide eyed, clearly very alert and far from sleep. She looks like a very young girl who is very, very lost, and scared beyond measure.

 

“Dave, is Rose asleep?”

 

John asks softly, carefully. You sit up enough to observe Rose. You nod, knowing he’s watching you.

 

“Ok, Jade? Will you watch Rose? I need Dave to help me clean up.”

 

“Oh…ok. That’s fine…”

 

She only lies there as you two get up, careful to keep from waking Rose. As you leave the room you look back, and she remains as still as Rose. Her eyes seem to illuminate the area around her.

And then she disappears behind a door and around a corner as you follow John to the shower. You take off your own shirt before helping him out of his, careful not to rip out his oxygen tubes. He does his own pants and you do yours, turning the water on to a gentle spray.

 

“This isn’t what I wanted.”

 

There are hundred of things he could be talking about, so you don’t say anything. You offer him your hand and you look at his face, watching as the blood washes away as soon as he steps inside the shower.

 

“I didn’t want to die with all of you mourning me, with all of you _watching_ and just, _waiting_. I knew it wasn’t gonna be a party, but this is too much…”

 

You brush the hair from his eyes and touch the curve of his jaw, getting rip of the last spec of blood. Your hand lingers over his heart, trying to feel the pulse under his skin.

He takes your hand, bringing it away from his heart, to his lips where he kisses your knuckles as light as air.

 

“Say something.”

 

What do you say?

What can you even manage to say?

You can only say what is easiest to say.

 

“I love you.”

 

“Don’t, don’t sound so…sad. Not when you say that. Please.”

 

“Then tell me what to say, because I don’t know. I just, I don’t-just tell me what to do.”

 

He cups your face and kisses you. As he presses his lips harder against yours you feel the little tube touching your skin. And you can’t ignore it, but you can still kiss back.

He only pulls away when your head starts to swim and you have to hold onto him for balance.

 

“I cant. I don’t know.”

 

“Tell me something you want. Tell me so I can give you _something_.”

 

“…I want to be with you. Just with you, at least for a little while.”

 

“…I can do that.”

 

You let him wash your hair then his own while you press single kisses to his shoulders and face. Your body is exhausted but your head spins with thoughts and feelings. When he turns off the shower you watch his movements. He takes measured, caution steps. Slow and mindful because the floor is a long way down for someone made of glass.

He pulls on a thick navy bathrobe but you snake your hands inside, counting his ribs with your fingertips and quickly moving to trace his collarbone. He melts to your touch and you think maybe you’ve distracted him, maybe he can stay with you in the bathroom to hide from the world like children and pretend that safety can be found and achieved.

His hands still yours and he looks at you with a smile that says now is not the time but I wish it was. He kisses you again, and again you kiss him back.

 

“We can sleep on the couch tonight. I’ll get it set up, will you see if Jades asleep?”

 

You nod, grabbing pajama pants that could be either of yours and walking silently to the bedroom.

Jade’s luminous green eyes catch you the moment you pass through the doorway. You think she looks frightening, almost animalistic in the dark.

 

“We’re gonna take the couch and go to bed, will you keep an eye on Rose?”

 

“…Yeah, ok. I mean, I could take Rose home, you shouldn’t have to squish on-

 

“Nah we do it all the time, you stay there and keep Lalonde safe with those crazy jungle girl skills.”

 

She tries to smile, but ends up just hiding her face in the tangles of her hair. She inches closer to Rose though.

 

“If anything happens, call me ok?”

 

“I will. Get some sleep.”

 

“I-Dave?”

 

You stop in the mist of turning out the door to look back at her. Her face is still hidden by black hair though.

 

“Dave, you call me if anything happens. Promise.”

 

You look at her and suddenly it is so obvious how fragile and scared she is. How despite everything she is beyond capable of, she is weak in this situation. You ALL are weak in this situation.

 

“I promise.”

 

You close the door gently behind you, and with bare feet you pad over to John. He is starring unseeing at his little oxygen tank.

 

“John?”

 

He doesn’t say anything, just gives you a small smile. His glasses have been removed, placed on the coffee table where your own glasses have been for a while. The same thick rectangles he wore as long as you can remember, next to the aviators he gave you so long ago that you cherish so ridiculously.

 

_He grabs and tosses your shades on the counter, and you pray they don’t break. You need them. You need to hold onto something he game you when he makes you leave._

 

A lifetime ago you had been worried of rejection, worried of a love unrequited, worried of John breaking your shades in a fit of anger at your pathetic confession.

A lifetime ago he had kissed you for the first time.

 

_“If you think this means you can just leave, you’ve underestimated out entire friendship.”_

 

You smile gently at the memory. At how _stupid_ you had been, trying to run away. At how thankfully persistent John had been, at how wonderful your kiss had been, while at the same time so very heartbreaking.

 

“What are you thinking about?”

 

He’s on the couch so you join him, throwing the blanket over your bodies and he wraps his arms around your chest. You press a kiss to his forehead as he squeezes you closer.

 

“Our first kiss. The day after I called you while I was drunk with Jade and I told you I loved you.”

 

“You mean how you ranted about bird dicks for like 15 minutes?”

 

“No not when I was drunk you asshole, the day I was hung over and like, really said ‘I’m in love with you’ for the first time.”

 

“…And then I kissed you.”

 

“And then you kissed me.”

 

You look at him and he looks right back at you. Steady blue eyes reflecting the light of streetlamps from outside your window. His hand moved to your jaw, his fingers just brushing your lips.

 

“I was so angry…that we had waited I mean. That we had both loved each other but never told one another.”

 

“I thought you were going to throw me out of your life. I was terrified. I thought I’d never see you again.”

 

“So stupid.”

 

“But you still love me. Still said you loved me and kissed me while I was being an idiot.”

 

“And I even married your ass despite you being an idiot.”

 

“Heh, yeah you did. And we had fantastic sex right after.”

 

“Oh my god.”

 

“Yeah you said that a lot that night too.”

 

“Dave-

 

“Oh you said that the most.”

 

“…Wow.”

 

You don’t know who starts laughing first, but you’re both stifling your fits of giggles and trying to calm down, suddenly so caught up in the childish entertainment of it all.

You calm down eventually, shaking with lasting chuckles, until your head rests in the groove of his neck, you hair tickling his ear.

 

“Go to sleep dick butt.”

 

How he manages to call you dick butt in a lovable way is both endearing and strange.

 

“Make me”

 

With that you feel a hand on your scalp, pulling just enough to make you tilt your face. He kisses you in a hungry but slow way. The kind of kiss that burns like heat on frozen flesh and makes you want to melt. He pulls away and looks into you eyes, holding you there with his hand still in your hair.

 

“Go to sleep dummy.”

 

You smile the way a lovesick puppy smiles, dopey and idiotic but very happy. He smiles back at you, dimples showing and blush noticeable. He is perfect, and he will always be perfect to you. You love him, more than anything. And you know, despite his wishes, that you will love him for the rest of your life.

 

“I love you John Egbert.”

 

And you say it how you always like to say it. With a whisper that isn’t really a whisper. Like it’s a secret but everyone knows.

 

“I love you too, Dave Strider.”

 

Those words lull you to sleep, and they comfort you when there is so little comfort to be found. And the words of a priest ring out in your mind.

 

_“-In sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”_

_You do._

_For as long as the sun burns and the universe continues, you will love him._

 

 

 

 

 

 

~

 

 

 

 

 

The morning hits you with the brightness of the light streaming through bare windows. It glares angrily behind your eyelids, making you see red and orange instead of black. You hate mornings in all honesty. The act of waking up is hard enough as it is without obnoxious light and cold air. The light shouldn’t even be there, as it was supposed to be a snowstorm. But the wind has stopped, and the sun breaks through.

You open your eyes, and curl up a little, feeling chilled. You instinctually feel for John, seeking his warmth and his comfort to allow you the escape of falling back to sleep. He doesn’t move as you wrap around him, and you notice his breath isn’t coming out labored. As your hands touch the skin between shirt and pants you almost flinch at how cold his skin is.

 

“John, you awake?”

 

Silence responds to you, and you gently lower your hand to the skin, now trying to warm his skin rather than seek his warmth.

 

“John?”

 

Fingers move upward, touching each patch of frozen skin on his back until you can feel the outline of his rib cage.

You hold your hand steady as you wait for the rise and fall of his diaphragm.

 

 

 

 

 

“…John?”

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 


	39. Chapter 39

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Peace I leave with you; my peace I give you. I do not give to you as the world gives. Do not let your hearts be troubled and do not be afraid.
> 
> -The Book of John 14:27

 

 

 

 

 

 

“For as much as it hath pleased almighty God of his great mercy to take unto himself the soul of our dear brother here departed-

 

 

_“Do you, John Egbert, take this man, Dave Strider, as your lawful wedded husband?”_

 

 

“-We therefore commit his body to the ground-

 

_“I do.”_

 

“-Earth to earth-

 

_“And do you promise to love him, in sickness and in health, for as long as you both shall live?”_

 

“-Ashes to ashes-

 

_“I do.”_

 

“-Dust-

 

_Your kiss is sweet like warm honey in summer air_

 

“-To-

 

_“I love you.”_

 

“-Dust.”

 

 

Silence falls instead of snow. Today it is clouded. The world is gray, and still. The fallen snow is layered with ice, and hard rather than soft. All gentleness the winter brought has vanished as you watch solid, frozen dirt with flecks of frost pour onto an empty coffin (he wanted to be cremated, and so you had watched him burn).

A son reunited with his father in a graveyard.

His job over, the priest who had arrived now left. And standing around a fresh grave stands a group of only three.

You don’t know if you’re part of that little group. You feel yourself outside of your body, outside of reality. Far, far away from all the death weighing on your bones. Far away from the verbal grief that comes in the form of sobs. You think your body must be cold down there, in a wrinkled suit with no coat, feet half buried in ice and snow. You watch Jade’s hair, swaying in gentle wind, a solid black against all the gray and white around you. Unlike your clothes, the black in her hair only shines when touches of ice linger on it.

How long you stand in front of a shiny tombstone and a patch of earth escapes you. You can only think of lying down on the cold soil and reaching down until a hand that does not exists grabs hold of your open palm. He could hold you steady as you stayed still for just long enough to let the frost cover you up and your eyes to close.

 

“Dave, its time to go.”

 

Rose’s voice sounds like an echo. Hallow, and lost. Her hand has been wrapped around your own, but you realize you had not returned the gesture, and your hand hung like a doll’s in hers. You have no words in your mouth. You just continue to stare at the words JOHN STRIDER EGBERT etched into marble. But she pulls you, and like a doll you stumble and follow, looking away only when its impossible to keep your head turned. Jade is already in the car, sitting in the drivers seat. Someone’s hands are guiding you into the back. You cannot feel most of your skin and you want to keep it that way.

 

 

~

 

 

Rose’s couch is warm and safe. It’s small but very soft, and feels like your personal birdcage. It keeps the dangers of life from hurting you, and keeps you confined to an area that is familiar.

 

“You have to eat something.”

 

Rose does not enter your birdcage. She is careful, stepping around it, touching just the outside, and never stepping inside.

 

“…It’s been three days since I saw you eat. You wont eat anything I put out, is there something you want? I can order something or, or go to the store?”

 

Had it been 3 days? You didn’t feel hungry. You didn’t feel much. You felt heavy though.

 

“Will you at least respond?”

 

Your tongue feels thick and heavy. You think about what you want, what you can actually have at least.

 

“I wanna go to the apartment.”

 

She’s silent for a bit, and even though you’re not looking at her you can see the way she struggles. Every movement out of the corner of your eye shows her hands twitching, head down as her mouth opens and closes.

 

“…Ok. Do you want…company?”

 

She wanted to know if you needed help. If you would be ok by yourself. But you wouldn’t be ok whether or not someone came with you.

 

“I’ll be fine.”

 

You swing your legs to the floor, swaying a little at the sudden dizziness. A smaller hand clasps your wrist, and you stare down at it dumbly. She lets go quickly, as if your skin burned her. You grab the keys to the apartment from your backpack, along with your glasses. You’re out the door before she can say anything else, but you get the feeling she has nothing left to say.

You feel fairly dumb walking out in your sweatshirt with the blizzard spinning around you. It’s not so bad though. The feeling of cold is just that; a feeling.

Walking to the apartment is silent. No one is out, the street is almost empty. It’s nice.

You don’t remember getting inside the place, but suddenly you’re standing on carpet, the door behind you shut tightly.

The air is his air. Where you walked he walked. And where you sit…

Where you sit he died.

You lean over, tipping, falling, colliding with the couch cushions. You close your eyes and breath in, and hold it until your lungs are burning and you have to release it.

In his will he left most of his possessions to you. His savings were divided between the three of you, but the apartment and almost everything in it was yours now. You had been here only two times since the funeral, the first was to collect overnight things at the demand of Rose. You were not allowed to stay here by yourself, and you have mixed feeling about that. The second time was with Jade and Rose, who accompanied you when you said you wanted to sleep there that night. They had been against it, and the moment you had seen the couch you had to leave. No one wanted to be there anymore. No one wanted to step inside a place that had strong ties to death, and such vivid memories of it.

Here you are alone though, and the feeling of death seems so familiar by now. Even the memory of a death cannot take away your memories of a shared happiness. You know it’s unhealthy that you are desperate enough to connect with the death that occurred here, but it ties you to him, so you don’t care anymore. You get up because you feel like there is grime on your skin and something scratching on the inside of your stomach. There’s still food in the apartment, almost nothing was touched.

You find a box of stale crackers and make yourself comfortable of the floor. It feels uncomfortable to chew, so you stop, throwing away the crackers. Eyeing the fridge, you go ahead and open it up, knowing there will be some expired shit in there. The milk is the first to go, a few condiments, and random cheese. There’s not much in there to begin with, so you shut it, head resting on the little freezer door. You had forgotten how little he had eaten, how little need there was for food in the fridge anyways. You doubt there was anything even in the freezer besides ice, but you open it up anyways.

It’s a weird feeling when pain resurfaces. It bubbles up so quickly you don’t have time to prepare and suddenly you have to grip the counter with all your strength. It is unfair to him to say it but you’ll say it anyways because it is hard to breathe and everything is blurry.

There are 4 things in the freezer, along with a little note. The 3 first things are all the cakes you had made months ago, years and lifetimes ago. Rose’s actually edible one next to yours and Jade’s. You can remember every detail of that day and every word he said and every time he looked right at you.

The 4th one is still cake, but none of you made it. It’s from your wedding cake, and it has the note attached.

 

_Dave, eat this for both of us on our anniversary, and you’re not allowed to be sad! Also make sure you check for mold because that would be really gross :B_

_-Love John_

 

It is so hard to breathe and you finally understand exactly what its like to explode because you are exploding right now with the fall of your body and the scream in your throat and the breaking in your chest. A heart breaks and it hurts but your heart explodes just like you and the shards left over pierce right through your skin and the blood is invisible but the pain, the pain is real.

You make noises like dying, pathetic creatures that are ripped open alone in the dark, and you don’t stop until your voice is horse and lost to an empty room.

In the silence of the air you can hear the memories of a laugh and a voice like spring wind.

 

 

 

 

 


	40. Chapter 40

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

The wind picks up as you move outside. It touches you, like its been waiting, like its been reaching for you in particular. It wants to grab you and pull, but you have the steady hands of two others beside you.

An urn, filled with ashes. The remains of a body that was the vessel of the boy you loved with more love than your heart could even hold. Hundreds of feet below lays the city of Seattle, covered in ice and snow, quiet in the very late, or very early, hours of the day.

Wind whips your face, not too harshly despite the height and the strength behind it. You stand on the edge of what feels like the world.

Your arm moves mechanically, but you are very aware of your own actions. The removal of the lid, the touch of flesh to ash as you scoop out a handful, and the almost reluctant toss you give as you throw his ashes to the air current, watching them disappear with the wind, to be carried over ice and above the world he lived his entire life.

Different hands do the same, one pale like yours, but much smaller, the other dark, a stark contrast to the ashes and snow around.

Leaving a little of the ashes within the urn, the lid is closed, secured, and pressed to your chest. There are no tears right now, just the sound of wind and the certain silence only night can bring. You close your eyes, but try as you might, the cold ceramic under your fingers will not, and never will be the warmth of living flesh you try to image it as. You are, in the end, a fool hugging an urn on top of a tall building in the middle of a Washington winter.

 

“I think I should say goodbye.”

 

The whisper is carried to your ears, and you don’t look at Jade. She wouldn’t be looking at you or Rose.

 

“I tried to say it at the funeral, but I couldn’t. I have tried since, but it’s too difficult.”

 

Rose’s voice is harder to hear despite her closeness. The wind is not blowing her words to you.

 

“I don’t know if I can ever say goodbye to John, but that’s not what I’m talking about.”

 

As if the wind was feeling your own emotions, it picked up and slowed down sporadically. It went wild for a moment, and then softened. You and Rose both looked at Jade.

 

“I’m going back to the island. To my island.”

 

It is your voice that seems to echo above the world, and it surprises even yourself.

 

“For how long?”

 

You think you know the answer, and Rose’s silence in a sign that she does too. She has turned away from you both, looking off into the horizon.

 

“For a long time.”

 

“And how long is that?”

 

She doesn’t answer, but you didn’t ask it like much of a question. Your voice was only a strained sound in the air, and you look below at the slow life of the night, and then up to the stars, bright enough that they shine despite the light pollution of the city.

 

“You will be alone.”

 

Rose’s words are venomous, spiteful and quivering in the air. When you look at her she is staring stoically out at nothing, while tears fall rapidly down her face. It makes her look like a broken doll.

 

“I know. But this is not my home anymore. Its not your home either.”

 

You look at her, and she looks back at you. Despite her blank and broken eyes you are angry at her.

 

“Don’t say that shit just because you think you gotta go fuck off to that island. This is our god damn home.”

 

“No, its not. Our home was John, and John was here. We need to find our own homes now.”

 

“We didn’t come here just for him, Jesus we can when we lost our own homes, our fucking family died and we didn’t know where to go so we built a family here, together. What you’re doing is taking that with you if you go.”

 

“We built that idea of family on the foundation of John. Now that he’s gone, we’re falling apart. I can’t stay here to crumble.”

 

“That’s fucking bullshi-

 

“You can’t even say his name! You wont say ‘John’, you’ll only say ‘him’ or ‘he’ or ‘his’ but you wont say his name!”

 

You are silent, seething and hurting at her words, clutching an urn of ash to your chest. Your wounded, empty chest where you once had a heart that beat as strong as the sun shined bright.

 

“At least I’m not leaving him-

 

“There’s no one to _leave_ Dave! He-JOHN, is not here. John is…gone.”

 

Her voice turns soft, and very small. The way she talks makes it clear this is the first time she’s said what she did out loud.

 

“Will you at least stay in touch?”

 

You feel wretched at the sound of how utterly destroyed Rose sounds. She’s already accepting everything and you realize you all have no choice. There is no more fight in you, and there is nothing left of yourself to fight for.

 

“I will. I’ll pester you both, just like when we were kids.”

 

And then the silence falls heavy and cold on all of you while the winds continues to pick up and fade, twirling your hair and smacking your jacket. It pushes you both away from the edge of the building and sucks you forward. Only Rose with her hand so securely on your arm (when did she put it there, how is it so warm) do you feel the smallest semblance of safety.

  
“We love you Jade.”

 

Only after Rose says those words do you break down and turn to look at her, feeling desperately hopeless.

 

“Don’t go. Jade, please, we _need_ you.”

 

It hurts to look at her because the features are similar. The hair is as black as midnight and the skin is dark with brilliant eyes and it hurts but it’s a pain you crave.

Her eyes had once been so large and kind and youthful with the sparks of intelligence and the curiosity to keep up with it. They would shine like electricity and now they are dark with age and fitted into a face worn and drawn. Even as she moves closer you don’t see more green, you only see all the quiet torment enlarged. As she holds you close you close you eyes and see those eyes like an after image. Stiffly you bring the arm not clutching the urn to your chest to her back and make an attempt to relay the affection through motion. You hope she can understand how you feel because you were never good with using real, honest words or even showing through touch. She lets go before you can even try to adjust to her in your arms. You stand there, looking into space where she was, even though now she is by your side, hugging Rose.

Like a shadow in the night she disappears easily, and makes you question if she was ever really there. You are left in the open air of the world with Rose at your back, looking towards the door where a girl with round glasses and green eyes vanished. You adjust the urn in your arms and let the cold wrap around you completely and numb the remaining parts of your body.

You don’t even consider chasing her, because she was always one to come and go as she pleased, because she was always stronger than you were, because she would break through anything in her way if her mind was already made up, and because you are selfish, and your selfishness does not want someone so sad and so gone who looks so familiar so close.

In the back of your mind you realize that you and Rose are the only ones left. Jade will leave, and despite her promise to keep in touch, a part of you knows it was a lie, and that there is a very good chance you will never see one of your best friends ever again.

 

“Rose?”

 

You reach out to her with a cracked voice and are given the response of a cold hand in yours.

 

“Do you want to go too?”

 

Her response is much stronger than you expected, and immediate.

 

“Dave, even if I do go somewhere, I wouldn’t go without you.”

 

You feel very weak compared to how confident her words are towards you. You lean towards her, not quite touching, but close.

 

“Thanks Lalonde.”

 

Its only a whisper, so you don’t know if she heard it or not in the whirl of wind. You both stand there, above a world with cold biting your skin and ashes stored against you chest.

Softly, without your permission or any solid prompt, you begin to cry. At first soft and small hiccups of tears, but they break into body wracking sobs. Your voice was finally loud as you cried out above the wind with raw agony in a way you never remember crying. You want the entire world to hear you, even for just one minute. To hear the pain that was so exclusive to just four people, and then three, and now two. You take your one minute, and you fill it with the rage, and with the love, and the loss, and the sound of a creature who has lost so close to everything.

 

 

 

_“…John?”_

_And no answer comes._

_And no breath leaves his lips._

_And his eyes do not open._

_“John, wake up.”_

_He does not respond. Not with words or movement and the rise and fall of his chest is nonexistent._

_“Wake up.”_

_His face is like ash and he is sleeping so peacefully, so still and calm like untouched water._

_“John please wake up.”_

_You draw yourself closer now, bringing your body around his as your tears fall on skin that feels like ceramic._

_“Wake up.”_

_He still smells faintly of fresh air and vanilla._

_“I love you, so wake up.”_

_You speak to John, but in your arms you hold a body devoid of life and halted in the function of all organic motion._

_And hours or minutes or maybe days pass before you are found clutching a dead man with eyes wide shut and heart long taken and bloodied and burned to ashes._

_Had it been in a hospital someone else would have rushed to the scene when his heart monitor alerted failure, and his time of death would have been recorded, and his body covered in a white sheet and taken away. But not in the hospital, you were left to be the soul announcer of his death, and the first to come across it in a surprise, in denial, and alone. You will pretend that on that quiet morning with snow still and soft outside that everything was only a dream. That you woke up and he was only still sleeping, and you had not wanted to bother him._

_You will remember the exact sound a human makes when the person they love is ripped so violently away from them for the rest of your life, but you will not always remember that it was you who made such a sound._

 

 

 

 

 

 


	41. The life of Dave Strider and Rose Lalonde

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the remaining years

 

 

 

In the years that followed you had accepted the silence of Jade Harley. Whether or not Rose had or hadn’t is hard for you to figure out, but she talks to you about it, and she only cries when the burden is particularly heavy.

It is the day of your birthday on the year after his death when she asks if you both should leave too. It wasn’t until her birthday, the next day, which you realized how very badly she wanted to leave. For a long time you sat in front of a grave and whispered your problems to a marble name and the gentle wind. Rose was miserable, if such a word could even begin to cover it, and you weren’t helping. You very often only made yourself more miserable by performing the acts of visiting a dusty apartment (you were going to sell it, you swear you just hadn’t gotten to it yet) and a cold graveyard.

Weeks passed, and eventually you said yes, and you both packed your possessions away. It was last minute that you decided you would not visit him to say goodbye, because you hadn’t said it then, so why would you say it now?

You pretend to be alright with the idea of moving away. You pretend it doesn’t feel like you’re leaving something very important behind, and that ultimately you are leaving your home.

 

~

 

 

New York was uncomfortable for you, and you wished you and Rose could live in the quiet outskirts where she grew up, but you knew that the reason you both were jammed in a tiny apartment in Manhattan was because she couldn’t be in that area ever again. It was the same reason you could never return to Texas without a bad taste in your mouth and the burn of old scars.

In the streets of the city the noises of others ate up the silence that pressed heavily on you both. Very hesitantly she took an editing job for a no name company to fill time and earn money. Even more hesitantly you returned to all your websites and took up a camera to try and prove to yourself that you were doing something if not nothing.

Sometimes in the subway or across an open bar you hear the sound of a piano and the world spins and you feel sick.

You find yourself incapable of making music anymore.

 

 

~

 

 

They said you would be the biggest thing since fucking colored film. You mostly ignored it all, talking to Rose in the late and early hour about what to do. Your comics had caught the eye of many well-known people, and you were being offered opportunities you had never even thought possible. They wanted you to go to LA to talk about going bigger. You didn’t even know what that meant. Rose said you should do whatever you really wanted to do, because whatever you wanted you should pursue, and wherever you went she would follow. You had never really grown comfortable in your small flat with Rose, sleeping to the sounds of nonstop life. You wanted the quiet alone of your real home. You would also never say that to Rose, who seemed so eager to continue moving and continue going on while you would just dwell. You knew the offers wouldn’t last forever, so eventually you said you would go to LA, just to visit.

You consider stopping in Washington, it wouldn’t be too out of the way. You want to, more than anything you want to go there, but a voice in the back of your head warns you that if you stop for even a second you will stay, and then there will never be any chance of leaving.

 

 

~

 

You didn’t expect to move to LA, but like she said she would, Rose moved both you and yourself there without problem. You lie to yourself and say it had nothing to do with how close it was to Washington compared to New York. You celebrated your 35th birthday by unpacking boxes and eating a cupcake with a single candle, which Rose has bought from a coffee shop down the road. You had already started to direct your own movie.

 

~

 

Sometimes when the world is quiet and you know Rose is asleep, you take out a box with rectangular glasses in them and place them on your bedside table. In the darkness you will squint and look at them next to your aviators and pretend that if your turn over the owner of those glasses will be sleeping.

 

~

 

At the premier of SBAHJ you walk a red carpet with a black suit and Rose holds your arm in a dark violet gown. There are tabloids claiming you’re both in a romantic relationship, that Rose is some kind of European model you hired, or that the reason you wear sunglasses is because you’re actually 60 years old and hiding the plastic surgery marks. You couldn’t give less of a shit, and part of you honestly has no idea what you’re doing, or why you’re doing it. You only know to hold onto Rose and keep moving. She will tell you that you’re moving forward, that you should be proud, that she’s proud of you, but in the end you only feel like you’re taking randomly placed steps which lead you further away from something lost.

 

~

 

Rose wanted to write. You could tell by the way she flicked her wrist with a new pen or subconsciously went to open a word document only to stop herself at the last minute. The reason you haven’t asked her about it yet is because a part of you is terrified she will write something true, and it was what was true about your life and yourself which scared you the most, and brought back bitter sweet memories along with treacherously painful ones.

 

~

 

You felt as old as you really were sitting in a bar surrounded by fresh out of college youth. People of all genders who knew your name offered to buy you a drink, some even boldly offered a lot more. They were all pretty little people with pretty smiles and pretty words, and after quite a few more drinks you pulled aside a brunette with a smooth tan and forgot what was and was not for 30 minutes. You feel like there is acid in your chest the next morning and refuse to look at your own reflection.

 

~

 

A little before you turn 43 years old you go out to a small dinner and order a desert for two with a candle in it. After it arrives and the ice cream begins to melt and wax from a cheap candle dribbles down the side you blow out the flickering light and close your eyes. Zoning out the quiet chatter from other tables you whisper the words “happy anniversary” like you are telling someone who is not there an enormous secret that everyone already knows.

 

~

 

Some famous person formally invited you and Rose to something famous and of course Rose accepted so now you’re trying to find a suit you haven’t worn that week and isn’t completely wrinkled. Rose was already there, you could see her on the fucking TV out of the corner of your eye. She didn’t need you to get attention from the press anymore, she had long since been recognized as a woman of strong wit along with beauty who could get the attention of anyone she desired.

The sound of the door opening caught your attention, since you know it definitely was your door, and only you and rose had keys. You don’t have your shoes on yet so you are so very quiet as you move to the other room.

They don’t see you, and you don’t have a weapon (your swords rest above your bed collecting dust) so you just watch as the robbers collect your possessions. You would think the sound of the television would have alerted the figures, but they all continue as they are, stealing from you. With a morbid fascination you just watch them, seeing what they take. One picks up a photograph and looks at it, their face hidden by a ski mask. You, however, recognize the frame, and with a terrible jolt to your heart you watch as they toss it aside, and the glass shattering on the wooden floor.

 

“NO!”

 

You hadn’t yelled like that in many, many years. It was a yell of actual emotion and force, and it shook your chest as you lunged forward, completely uncaring of the strangers in your home. You reached for the photograph under the glass even as you heard the gunshot and felt the impact.

You felt very confused, lying on the ground as frantic footsteps crashed around you. Your fingers twitched as you continued to reach under glass and frame for a worn photograph. As you dragged it towards your crumpled body you took in the sight of blood pooling all around.

You then began to push the photo away, out of reach of the blood. The room was once again silent, and you realized with a hazy thought that you were alone.

And that you were dying.

Rose would think you were late, and then get worried as well as frustrated. You suddenly feel like a very bad person, leaving her to come home and deal with your death on her own. Leaving her alone.

You inhale and begin to exhale, but warm liquid chockes you and you cough up blood, feeling sticky and uncomfortable.

You glance to the photo, and focus on making your last moments easy, thinking of when it was taken.

Jade’s face too close to the camera, not caring that she didn’t know how to take a proper selfie as you all made dumb faces in the background. But before the button was pressed and the moment captured, the false mockery on all your faces had faded, and instead of a dumb group photo, you were left with the image of 4 genuinely happy college students, forgetting that they had tests or projects or problems at all.

They were just 4 kids smiling, simple and alive and beautiful in one moment.

The afternoon sun had hit his eyes in that moment and his glasses had been on top of his head, and he had half turned to you with a smile that made you think of the first warm day of spring. Eyes crinkle as his smile only widened when he caught you smiling back. Various lifetimes ago you were in that moment, and so was he, and he was alive and warm with all his radiance and health and you had loved him with every individual particle of your being.

As you fade out of memory and back into reality you very briefly realize that you had loved all your friends just as much then as you still do, and that despite how he had been against it, you had loved John Egbert for the rest of your life.

 

 

 

 

 


	42. Awaken, Arise

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For the thousands of ways there are to say goodbye, there are just as many ways to say hello.

 

 

 

 

 

_Its time._

Time for what?

 

_No, it is time._

Yeah, time for what?

 

_Time is yours, and thus it is for you to decide._

To decide?

 

_To decide time._

How do I decide time?

 

_You wake up, and rise._

I thought I was awake?

 

_Then rise._

 

How?

 

_You die, and then you awaken._

I have to die?

 

_You have already died._

That’s ridiculous, I’m not dead.

 

_No, but you have died. Now you must wake up._

How do I wake up if I’m not asleep or dead?

 

_Find your body, feel the flow of time._

I don’t understand.

 

How do I rise?

 

_Wake up._

I don’t know how to do either of those fucking things!

 

_Then open your eyes, hero of time._

I just want to know how to wake-

 

 

 

 

“-up.”

 

The weight of your own body throws you off for some reason, like its new to you. You’re lying on a hard bed, and concentrating on the feeling of your limbs, the movement of your fingers.

 

“I do believe he is awake.”

 

You open your eyes at the unfamiliar voice so close to your ears. A soft light shines above you, and your shades protect your eyes from the shock of it.

 

“Are his eyes open? Did they just open I cant tell!”

 

“Perhaps instead of yelling, you should ask him if he is, in fact, awake?”

 

Another voice, uncomfortably close for someone unfamiliar to you. You turn your head to look to your right, and see…

Her name is Roxy, and you know exactly who she is.

 

“Roxy?”

 

“Dave!!!”

 

She slaps you hard on the shoulder, making you flinch as the feeling awakens your entire body. You feel too aware and strangely alive.

 

“Ok, oh my gosh, holy shit this is so cool that I got to see you wake up! I almost always miss it because I’m with Jane or Jake or Dirk or, ok whatever I’m a busy lady you get it. But I figured I’d visit Rosie and you-

 

“Rose?”

 

A sudden wave of grief hits you, and for some reason you can tell that Rose is not with you. You feel nauseous, and frightened. You hadn’t felt separated from Rose in a very long time. You needed her.

 

“Yeah, Rose! She’s right next to you, miss sleeping beauty, just dozing away.”

 

You follow Roxy’s pointing finger, turning your head to the other side to find another familiar but unknown person. A stranger who you have known for a long time, but somehow forgotten even existed.

 

“Hello Dave. It’s nice to see you awake. Although I suppose I should also offer condolences on your most recent death.”

 

 

“My most recent death? What about-

 

You stop talking as you look beyond Kanaya, to a form lying very still on a stone bed. She is parallel to you, and you realize you are still lying down. A little too quickly you get up, and ignoring your dizziness you take short, quick steps, and look down at Rose.

She is asleep, just like Roxy said. She looks so young, a smooth, beautiful face of youth and peacefulness. But so much younger than the confusing memories you have in your head.

 

“How old am I?”

 

You ask it to the air, so you wait for either Roxy or Kanaya to answer.

 

“Do you mean literally? Because that’s a weird concept but we could guess?”

 

“What Roxy means is that in earth years, or rather, in your human biology more so, you are around 16. That is to say that your body will have the appearance of someone who is 16 years old, but you will find you are remembering living for much longer than a mere 16 years.”

 

You stare down at Rose, looking at her young face, and then look past her into your own mind to see an image of a Rose you feel like you saw only minutes ago. In a long dress with a face worn by harsh years and eyes vivid with gained intelligence. Your vision presents you with both the image of a grown and accomplished woman and a teenage girl soon to be in her prime. The two images of the same person conflicts, yet combines, and eventually you see only the shadow of an older woman in the face of the Rose you see before you.

 

“Rose is…ok? She’s gonna wake up too?”

 

When you turn to look at Kanaya, you see a warm smile and hopeful eyes, only dimmed by an anxiousness in her body language.

 

“She will wake up, and she is perfectly safe and healthy right here. When she will wake up though, that is more uncertain. I suppose between Terezi and I, we could get a better idea of when exactly she will wake up, but with your own waking I am now confident I wont be waiting that much longer.”

 

She turns to look at Rose, and her hand brushes Rose’s fingers. The grey of her skin rather light with the soft glow her skin emanated, it wasn’t too far off from Rose’s skin tone. You saw a tenderness that almost made you want to look away for fear of intruding, and you were struck with a sudden realization.

 

“You’ve been waiting a long time for her to wake up, haven’t you?”

 

“Yes. But I always wait for her, and she has always waited for me. But tell me, in your previous life, did Rose ever find a romantic partner?”

 

The question seems too private for you to answer, but it’s a fairly simple answer you give.

 

“No. We lived together for years and she never even went on a date. I don’t know if she was lonely, but…well actually I’m pretty sure she knew something about you. Like she was waiting. She said something about it, a long time ago, I just can’t remember…a lot of memories are mixing. Sorry.”

 

“No need for apologies, I just wanted to ask, seeing as it would be quite awkward if she awoke after being engaged with someone romantically only to find me here waiting to continue a very old and very serious relationship. And as far as her knowing or having an idea of me, I’m not very surprised. She is a seer, and no matter what life we enter, we always keep some part of our aspect.”

 

“Alright we get it you and Rose are hella gay for each other and its super cute but come on! Dave’s awake and John isn’t even HERE! What the hell is up with THAT huh?”

 

Like cold steel sinking through your bones and hitting you with the force of a truck, you remember the overwhelming love and grief and loss that you experienced and were unable to get over for decades. You remember the smile on your face as blue text lit up your computer screen and a kiss shared with tears in our eyes.

And you remember everything that was and is John, and you remember how much you love him.

 

“John’s here?”

 

Your voice shakes and is only whispered, but Roxy moves close to your side, placing a hand on your shoulder and Kanaya quickly squeezes your hand.

 

“Oh Dave…I know its been a long time for you, we heard what happened from John, and he’s been so crazy about you waking up but well, I mean, when you wake up it means you die in a previous life, so, part of him wanted you back, but he also wanted you to keep living. You know, in the other life. Where Rose is. And since he was the first one to wake up he takes turns visiting you and Rose and Jade, so right now I would guess he’s with Jade! He’s gotta check on all of you since ya never know who’s gonna wake up first, get it?”

 

“I…So Jade…Jade isn’t, awake?”

 

“Well unless she died with you, I seriously doubt it!”

 

“I wouldn’t know…Rose and I hadn’t heard from her in so long, I didn’t even know if she was even fucking alive…”

 

There’s a long silence, and you realize the others would have no idea that Jade had separated from you and Rose, and that you probably dropped some awkward information on the floor.

 

“well…how about I take you to her and John? I mean, if you want to?”

 

His name spoken by someone else is so strange to you. To speak about him like he’s alive because he _is alive_.

You can’t even speak, so you nod.

 

“Awesome! Lemme just say bye to Rose and we’ll be off to their Prospit tower!”

 

You watch from the corner of your eye as Roxy kisses Rose’s sleeping form on the forehead, whispers something to her, and then hugs Kanaya tightly. Your thoughts are everywhere and nowhere, and it’s verging on too much for your mind.

 

“Here, take my hand and breathe, ok? I know, believe me, its weird and confusing and a shit load to take in at the beginning, but you’ll be surprised by how quickly you begin to remember and adjust.”

 

Numbly you take her hand, feeling comfort practically radiating form her bright smile. There are butterflies in your stomach, and you feel like you’re only a kid again.

She pulls you away from a darkness you hadn’t even realized you were in, a darkness in the form of a bubble that held your sleeping body, and where Kanaya and Rose sit together, not yet joined, but still together.

You pass other bubbles and catch a glimpse of Derse, people you know and know of, places you feel like you’ve been but don’t quite remember. Everything blurs together after a while, and you are only aware that you are moving under Roxy’s gentle pull.

 

“Ok, he should be in the stereotypical big ass tower, the one right there? It’s like the one you woke up in but different. I’ll see you later Dave!”

 

“What? Wait what if he’s not there?”

 

“He’s totally there! He’s only ever there or next to you, duh. He’s gonna be sooooo happy, omg I wish I could watch.”

 

“I mean, you can stay?”

 

“Nah, this is a big ‘John and Dave’ thing only. Don’t be nervous! I aint gonna third wheel so its your time to shine Mr. knight.”

 

She gives you a wink, and as she disappears you give a weak wave. You feel very vulnerable and alone, and when you look up at the golden tower with patches of black bubbles your stomach does flips and belly flops.

 

_Is he really right there?_

You think about how long you spent dreaming of seeing him again, and how here you are with the opportunity right in front of you, and you’re hesitating. It’s dumb as fuck.

Taking a deep breath, you silently fly up towards the large window, painfully aware of how sweaty your palms are.

You take one last large inhale and release it before moving right in front of the window and looking in.

It’s a bit dark, not dark like where you had been sleeping, and you’re aware that first, there is one empty bed in the room, and second, there are two people on the other bed. A girl with wild black hair falling from the sides, her chest rising and falling with steady slumber, large round glasses on her face. She is young, like Rose, and just as beautiful as you remember her. You feel a pang of remorse that you had not tried harder to see her in your past life, that you had not just taken a plane and confronted her, or anything.

But you’re distracted by the tall figure sitting on the side of the bed, his hand holding Jade’s, his back only slightly to you. You can make out the rectangular glasses on his face and the way his hair falls just short of his eyes. You know without seeing that his eyes will be a bright blue, but clouded with faraway thought. His body is young, and healthy. His muscle renewed, and though not as large as his collage age body, still apparent. Looking at him only makes you want to go closer, so you do.

You feet brush the floor, and you look down to make sure you land softly so you don’t startle him. But when you look up, his body is turned, and his eyes, his vivid blue eyes, are on you.

Silence fills up every corner of the room as you both stare like starved creatures, taking in everything you missed and everything you didn’t have and everything you love so dearly. When you can’t stand it any longer, and you have to get closer, you break the silence.

 

“Hey.”

 

You watch like slow motion as his face splits into a smile as wide as his face and he moves to you in the span of seconds that are much more like hours, and at the first contact of his skin your body is on fire and brought to life and the shaking of your hands only grows worse but finally, after en entire lifetime, he settles in your arms, and you hold him as tightly as you can without hurting him. There is laughter in your ears and it could be yours but you think its his, and whether or not you’re crying is unclear but he is with you. And he is alive, and he is in your arms, and you love him more than anything.

You have no idea what to say, so you say the easiest thing, and you say it just the way you used to where you whisper it to him like its such an enormous secret even though everyone knows, and he kisses your neck and kisses your jaw and when he kisses your lips you finally stop saying it but only for the moment. When he pulls back you see the glisten in his eyes and realize he has lifted you shades and he is only inches away and his smile is the most gorgeous thing you have ever seen.

He looks at you like you are perfect and like you are so incredibly special, and when his lips part and words come out they tickle your ear but settle in your heart. They fill the cracks and the holes and repair your burnt and broken chest, wrapping around it and filling you with a warmth you had gone so long without.

And so he says he loves you, and you know he is telling the truth, just like you are when you say it back. You tell him you love him over and over again, and you both laugh and you both cry and its hard to forget the pain from the past but its also easy to feel the joy of the present.

Because you love him, and he loves you.

 

 

 

 

_There are many different goodbyes._

_There are sad goodbyes, a time of departure, but the promise of an eventual return. These goodbyes come with later happiness, and while the first goodbye is hard, the welcome that comes later is worth it._

_Sometimes there are goodbyes you’re thankful for, that take a great weight off your mind, or off your heart._

_It often happens that someone you once said goodbye to will unexpectedly returns, maybe as a surprise to you, maybe just an accident._

_Then there are the times when you are anticipating the return of the person you said goodbye to, and thus you had only given a short goodbye, only to have them not return so soon after all._

_And then there are the goodbyes that last forever. They are the true goodbyes, because they only happen once in everyone’s life._

_Everyone has their sad goodbyes, their thankful goodbyes, their short goodbyes, their long goodbyes, and eventually, their true goodbyes._

_You never gave your last goodbye though, and he never said his true goodbye. Maybe because you don’t say goodbye, or because you can’t say goodbye, or because you have never once in your life been good at saying goodbye._

_So you stop altogether, because when you say hello or good morning or good night or anything else even all you need is to say those three easy and strong words of “I love you”._

_He will ask you if you’re ready to go to sleep and wake up in a new life, but not until Jade and Rose wake up and you spend an incalculable time being young and innocent and happy. You will be ready for that time, and you know that you will separate to lie in different beds, but never will you say the words goodbye._

_You will go to sleep again, and wake up again as Dave Strider, and he as John Egbert, and in universe upon universe in which you awake in, you always find him, and you will always, always love him._

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you everyone for all the comments and the encouragement and for sticking with this fic til now!   
> I hope I didnt disappoint anyone or make the ending TOO cheesy, anyways, thank you all!

**Author's Note:**

> Apologies for any grammatical errors  
> please leave questions or concerns if any
> 
> thank you for reading so far


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